


The Scathing Saviour of the Wizarding World

by TheRogueHuntress



Series: The Love Affair of Severus and Sirius [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, BAMF Severus Snape, Bottom Sirius Black, Dom Severus Snape, Enemies to Lovers, First War with Voldemort, Fix-It, Good Severus Snape, Hair-pulling, Half-Blood Prince AU, Horcruxes, Light BDSM, M/M, Marauders' Era, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), POV Severus Snape, Porn With Plot, Romance, Smut, Sub Sirius Black, Swearing, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Top Severus Snape, Torture, Young Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 21:18:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6394219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRogueHuntress/pseuds/TheRogueHuntress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus Dumbledore concocts a desperate plan to send Severus back to his last year of Hogwarts, and save the Wizarding World from its future fate. What could go wrong? (Certainly not a budding relationship with the person he hated most in the world, nor being thrust into a position of power within the Order of the Phoenix.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. History Starts Anew

Severus was in a fucking shit mood.

Firstly, he had screamer of a headache.

Secondly, his least favourite student had almost murdered his second least favourite student in a girls bathroom.

Thirdly, Albus was being his usual mysterious and irritating self.

He reread the note.

_Severus. Please come to my office at your earliest convenience. I have a task for you. -Albus_

What a load of bollocks. It was never convenient.

He strode along the corridors, glaring at any student that looked his direction, sending a group of tiny first years scurrying away with a scream. Miserable cretins.

“Ice mice.” The gargoyle opened and he took the steps two at a time.

“Severus.” Albus looked awful. He was a fraction of his former self, pale, thin and frail looking. Severus half thought a gust of wind might blow him over, the bothersome fool.

“Yes,” he snapped.

“I have discovered a dreadful truth.” Albus closed his eyes for a moment, as if even speaking was difficult. It likely was. “Voldemort has been using horcruxes.” Severus’ hands tightened into fist. What the bloody hell was he expected to do about it?

“This I have known for some time. It is abominable, but still possible to negate. Unfortunately, it has come to my attention that he has created a horcrux that we cannot destroy. Harry… Harry’s scar contains a part of Voldemort’s soul.” And so came the full circle. Hating Potter with every inch of himself, yet saving him for that glimpse of Lily’s eyes, and now once more loathing the boy, even more than he thought possible.

“Do you want me to kill him? Because I will do that happily,” Severus snarled. Albus sighed, and pushed a small wooden box toward him, using his undamaged hand.

“I do not truly believe that.” Insufferable git. He refused to contemplate whether he might be right. Severus took the box, and opened it. A device not unlike a time turner sat there.

“This will take you back to your past, where your current mind will live in your past body.” Albus pinned him with a piercing gaze, and Severus felt like every inch of his soul was being inspected, and found sorely lacking. “You will change the past. I will tell you what I know of the horcruxes, and you will destroy them, and Lord Voldemort, before he can murder the Potters.”

Severus closed his eyes, and took several ragged breaths. Save Lily. It was all he had ever dreamed of, everything he'd ever wanted, yet to be forced to live through the war again…

“It’s not possible,” he said. How cruel to throw such a temptation in his face.

“It is. The device in that box was invented for this very reason: if it came to such a point that we should have to alter history immeasurably.” He wanted to smash the box, and the device with it. He wanted to treasure it, to don it now, and never let it go.

“Sometimes, I think that I exchanged one master for another,” he rasped, just to see the pain on Albus’ face. They both fell silent as Severus considered the offer.

“Will you do it?” Albus asked, and Severus hated him for asking, hated him so much it consumed him. How could he not?

“I will,” he said.

* * *

 

When Severus opened his eyes, the Slytherin dorms stared back at him. He rose, showered, and inspected himself in the mirror. The start of seventh year, just before he swore allegiance to the Dark Lord. Now he never would. His arm was unmarred by a gruesome tattoo, his skin pale and scarred only by himself.

“Staring at yourself won’t make you any prettier,” someone jeered, McNair perhaps. At seventeen he would have been tempted to hex him. Now frankly he couldn’t care less.

“You would know,” he retorted, before dressing and searching through his items. He had everything, and nothing. Once again he was a pauper. This had been the most horrific few years of his life. Now he swore it was going to be different. He fixed and cleaned his robes, donned them, grabbed his bag and schedule, and went to breakfast.

Lily was there.

Oh lord she was beautiful.

But beautiful in the way one might stare in awe at a cascading waterfall, or a vibrant sunset, or sparkling stars at night.

Unlike the beliefs of many, he was not sexually attracted to her. He was a homosexual, yet another failing in the eyes of his father. In truth, she had been the only true friend and confident he had ever had.

“Alright Snivillus,” Black snarled as he barged past, Potter following behind. Severus sucked in a breath, and suppressed his pride.

“Potter,” he called. Potter turned, a look of disdain upon his face.

“May I have a word with you?”

“So you can hex him all alone?” Black sniped.

“I give my word I only wish to speak to you,” he said, ignoring Black. Potter dismissed his friend.

“Alright, I suppose,” he said suspiciously. Severus led him aside, and cast a muffling charm.

“I wish to propose a truce.”

Potter raised an eyebrow. “Bollocks.”

Severus clenched his fists, and released them. Potter was just a child he reasoned, the same as Pettigrew, the same as every student in this damn school. If he could deal with spoilt Draco Malfoy, and the bothersome Weasley twins, hell, if he could survive spying on Voldemort for fifteen years, he could survive this.

Frankly, given his years of experience and practised twitchiness, if Potter or Black attempted to hex him now they would be in for a nasty surprise. He realised, with a shock, that he had no interest in harming them. He was a bastard, but he wasn’t a sadistic one.

“I wish to obtain my NEWTs, and get a Mastery in Potions, and live a quiet life by myself, with no outside interferences. It would be beneficial for the both of us to avoid conflict.”

Potter tilted his head to the side, obviously considering his words. “For you, perhaps.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. The arrogant fool. What had he been saying about not wanting to hex the little shit? He pursed his lips.

“I know that my friendship with Lily has gone sour, however I can tell you that your relationship with her will never flourish unless you can demonstrate that you are more than an ‘arrogant toerag’.” He took a calming breath as Potter flushed, enraged.

“Before you accuse me of wanting her for myself I can assure you that I am completely uninterested in that aspect of our relationship.”

Potter sneered. “Unlikely.”

Severus growled. “I am gay, you blithering imbecile.” Potter blinked, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’. Severus cursed himself for speaking. Perhaps he had been overly optimistic in thinking this could work. Still, tactically, Potter believing him to not be a threat could help.

“Even so, how do you expect this to work when all your little Death Eater friends are going around attacking people?” Severus saw red. He saw Dolohov cursing Hermione Granger, he saw McNair killing ‘mudblood’ children, he saw Mulciber raping muggle women, he saw Lucius crucioing families.

“Friends!” he hissed.

“They are not my friends. No, they are cockroaches, disgusting creatures that I must associate with for appearance’s sake. How am I expected survive this hell hole if I alienate every living creature within it? No other house would ever talk to a Slytherin, especially one deemed as vile as me, and I have to sleep in the same room as those miserable excuses for human beings. They fucking revolt me, each and everyone one of them, but I cannot reject them for fear of being murdered in my sleep, you ignorant imbecilic oaf.” Potter stared at him. Fuck, he’d let his temper get the better of him. He huffed.

“I am sorry. I hoped we could overcome this. Obviously I was mistaken.” He turned, wary of an incoming hex.

“Wait.”

He swivelled back. Potter crossed his arms, and was biting his lip.

“You’re different. You’ll have your truce, if you really have changed.”

Severus nodded at him. “And Black?”

Potter grimaced. “I’ll try to persuade him…”

“That is all I can ask for. Good day.” He walked away.

As he ate breakfast he could see Black’s incredulous face as Potter informed him of their truce. He could also see Lily pretending not to eavesdrop as she snuck glances at Potter. How had he not seen the nuances in their behaviour before? It seemed so obvious, but that was the bane of a deep cover spy. Lupin joined them, and as he was informed he glanced over. He almost looking approving, to Severus’ irritation. In this time Black had yet to pull the cruel trick of sending him down to the Shrieking Shack on a full moon to discover Lupin’s true nature. It was a precious piece of information, one that he would wield with care, that and his knowledge of their animagus abilities. Pettigrew joined them, fat and ugly and utterly loathsome. Severus resisted hexing him to pieces where he stood, but only just. In this life, he would never have the opportunity to betray Lily and James Potter. Severus would make sure of that.

Classes were a breeze. Thank fucking god. He had no time nor tolerance to waste it relearning the syllabus. He spend the majority of his time split between two endeavours. Firstly he brewed a sufficient amount of sample potions, and sent them off to St Mungo’s, Hogwart’s and many other institutions with the request that they test them, and if they deemed them an acceptable improvement to their originals, purchase more from him. He refused to live in poverty. Secondly, he attempted to research horcruxes, and historical items that may have interested Tom Riddle enough that he would use them to store parts of his soul. Albus had suggested that he find Slytherin’s Locket, the diary, the ring, and an item of Ravenclaw’s and an item of Hufflepuff’s. Both Harry Potter's scar and the snake had not yet been created. After much research he decided that Hufflepuff’s cup, and Ravenclaw’s diadem were the items most likely selected. Presumably the diary was in Lucius’ house, and the ring in the Gaunt shack. He had been given the remote location of the locket, which left the cup and diadem to be found. Of course, he had to destroy them, and Albus had very little suggestions for that, other than ‘slaughter the basilisk with Gryffindor’s sword, and use that’. Thanks for nothing, you insufferable fool.

He had hoped, naively, he could do this without assistance, could avoid Dumbledore’s painful gaze. Of course not. So now, the question was: how much should he tell him?

He needed Albus to trust him, but he refused to tell this Albus the entire truth. A difficult situation. Severus was only glad he’d retained his magical abilities, including his impenetrable occlumency barriers, when travelling through time. He’d worried that he’d have to relearn the skills.

Another pressing matter was that there was a fucking basilisk living under the school.

In the end that was what decided it for him.

He paced before Albus’ office, muttering the name of sweets in the hope that it would open. Eventually it did, although whether it was the password, or that Albus had noticed his presence, he did not know.

“Ah, Mr Snape. How may I help you? Lemon drop?” Albus offered. Severus drew a breath, and attempted to appear as if he were nothing more than a moody, troubled teenager.

“Hello Professor.” He stared at the ground. God this was shit.

“I am expected to join the Dark Lord, along with my Slytherin cohort.” How he loathed them.

“I see.” Albus looked good, if shrewd. He looked alive, and Severus felt strangely glad.

“The Dark Lord is raving lunatic with far too much charisma and power than is safe,” Severus said. Although the movement was imperceptible to those who didn’t know him, Albus almost laughed.

“I have no inclination to serve him, and never will. I disagree with his fundamental outlook, and abhor his treatment of those he deems inferior. What can I do?” Albus regarded him, and Severus tried his best to seem moody, but innocent. Time for his wild card. It would either lead to Albus trusting him complicity, or potentially bring about his expulsion.

“I have information that I can share. I have overheard many illicit conversations, including one incredibly pertinent to my current situation. Lucius Malfoy believes he has an object in his possession that could bring about the reopening of the Chamber of Secrets, and the freeing of the monster. He claims that a basilisk lives within the school, and will prey upon those of impure blood, such as me.” When he risked a glance, Albus looked incredibly disturbed.

“This object is the diary of Tom Marvelo Riddle.” He ignored the gaping stare he received, opting to stare at his shoes. And so the game begins.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mr Snape. I will look into this. And as for Voldemort, I suggest you do your best to remain neutral, but perhaps appear as if you are playing the field? If you have any problems with your house mates, please feel free to inform me, or any other member of staff.” Severus nodded. Finally, his trump card. The wild card had paid off, but this would hit pay day. He affected a distraught look.

“Thank you Professor. Is it… is it possible to change my last name to Prince? I know you shouldn’t speak ill of family, but… well frankly, my father is an abusive alcoholic bastard and I wish to have no association with him.” He stared at his hands, then met Albus’ gaze. He was probed with the tiniest amount of legimency, and he brought forth memories of his father’s cruelty. Albus actually stood, and rested a hand upon his shoulder.

“I will speak to the Ministry. And I am terribly sorry you had to endure that. Please let me know if there is anything else you need help with.” Severus managed a half-hearted smile, before skulking toward the door.

“Thanks,” he muttered, and ducked out.

* * *

 

Who knew? Albus Dumbledore, the master manipulator, a chess piece in his own plans. He felt sick. He staggered to his favourite spot, an unknown window sill that was perfectly suited to brooding in. He placed his head in his hands and tried not to weep. He had forgotten how terrible lonely his life had been. Unable to trust even his most revered mentor.

“Severus?” A voice, not unlike a choir of heavenly angels. He turned to her, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Lily,” he whispered. He realised, suddenly, this was the place they had come to meet, when they had been friends, and although he had abandoned it when their friendship ended, he had haunted it ever since he had returned as a Professor to the school. He gazed up at her.

“Lily. I would do anything for you to forgive me.”

She hesitantly touched his shoulder.

“Severus…I… James told me what you said. Do you really dislike your house mates?” He grimaced. Guilt consumed him. Of course, at the time, he had loved the power he felt as he joined them in their torment of the school. Now he knew better, and they revolted him.

“I loathe them,” he hissed, and stood. He was not made for bowing. Not before a Dark Lord, not Albus Dumbledore, and not before a girl. He would be forgiven, or he would not.

“I am truly sorry for the name I called you. I want you to know that it was never my intention to hurt you, and only my familiarity with the word that led me to say it, and my anger at the situation.”

She took his hand. “I forgive you,” she said. Severus pulled her into a hug, his tensions melting away. Eventually they withdrew. She looked at him sideways.

“You’re gay? I always thought…” she asked. He snorted, and turned to her. Trust Potter to spread that part around.

“Lily. You are the most beautiful creature to walk the earth, but that is because you are kind, and forgiving, and clever, and funny. I love you like a sister, like a friend.”

She smiled. They both sat in the window seat, and watched the students scurry below them.

“Potter? Really?” He had to ask. She blushed.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said primly. He raised an eyebrow. She glared at him.

“Shut up Sev,” she said, and he laughed.

Cheerful was not ever a word he would use to describe himself, however he attended his classes with a far more upbeat outlook. Potter avoided him completely, apart from the occasional assessing glance. Quite astonishingly, he kept Severus’ sexuality to himself (apart from Lily, and likely the Marauders). It almost made him suspicious, until he recalled that in the future Sirius Black was also inclined that way, and so any disgust brought upon Severus would also be brought upon Black. He and Lily once more were Sluggy’s favourite potions pair, and he would not stop lathering them with praise. It was quite despicable. Unfortunately, as their friendship progressed, so did Lily and Potter’s relationship. As Lily deemed Potter’s attitude much more amenable, and had never had a complaint against his looks (Severus agreed, much to his own disgust) one day, to Potter’s delight and shock, she agreed to go on a date with him. Potter could be heard hollering up and down the corridors in celebration for hours.

Severus also heard back from the many institutions he had contacted. Almost all of them demanded he supply them with potions, as obviously they were superior, and wanted his details so they could pay him. He set up an account with the goblins, and they were willing to provide an untraceable false name: Maxwell Smith. He replied, with payment details, and explained he would require a deposit for any large orders. He received several, and used it to purchase the ingredients, and so he began to brew once more. He also worked upon the Wolfsbane Potion. He had brewed it several times, however couldn’t remember the exact specifications, much to his frustration. He spent many hours experimenting with it.

 His greatest delight, however, was that he had found Ravenclaw’s diadem. The Grey Lady, ghost of Ravenclaw tower and daughter of Rowena herself, had divulged her secret. Of course that only confirmed his suspicious. However, he had quizzed the house elves on the best place to hide an item within Hogwarts. (Because typically Voldemort would find it amusing to hide something beneath Albus’ nose. It disgusted him how similarly they thought.) The elves had shown him the room of come and go. He paced before it.

 _I need a room that contains Tom Riddle’s horcrux._ He thought, and so the door appeared. On a stool sat the diadem. He dared not touch it. Horcruxes were notoriously difficult to destroy.

But he had it. He knew that basilisk venom would kill it, but he had none to hand, and he was unwilling to venture into the bowls of the school in order to battle one. They had allegedly been extinct for hundreds of years and so he could not purchase any either. So his next foray to the library was research into the most dangerous substances a person could get their hands upon.

Fiendfyre was one such substance, but he was terrified to attempt it. However, it led him to a theory. If basilisk venom was a water element, fiendfyre was obviously a fire element, then there were two other ways, earth and air, to destroy the horcrux. It seemed ridiculous, but often magic worked in ways like this.

Tonight, though, he allowed himself the time off. He had spent almost every waking hour in the library, and was beginning to feel the strain upon his body. His younger self was far more resilient than he remembered, but he wasn’t indestructible. He had improved himself though, from the pale runt of a boy he’d been before. Although he hated the thought of it, he’d forced himself to exercise three times a week, running around the grounds where no one could find him, and it had significantly changed the body he had remembered. It was an exercise regime he had started in his late twenties, suggested by a muggle counsellor when he’d had suicidal thoughts, and one that he’d kept to even now. Admittedly, it helped.

He relaxed in the common room, as much as one could relax in the presence of fellow snakes, a book on animagus transformations upon his lap. If Sirius Black, James Potter and, of all people, Peter Pettigrew had achieved it then he certainly could. He was reading for pleasure, and interest, rather than research. He and Lily had matching watches that he’d charmed in a similar manner to Granger’s charmed coins, not that he’d ever admit it, that informed him if she wanted to meet. She’d change the time upon the watch, and it would warm against his wrist. To acknowledge, he’d simply change it back to the currently time. It became a solid source of amusement, Snape’s inability to own a watch that kept time. Idiots.

Sadly she’d not changed the time today, suggesting she was far too busy flirting with Potter. He shuddered to think of it.

He returned the book to his trunk, which was warded more than any Hogwarts student could hope to break through and set out for a walk. It was past curfew, but he knew the castle like the back of his hand. Better, to be honest.

He was walking along a fifth floor corridor when he heard footsteps. He slipped into a hidden passage, protected by a portrait that few knew the password to, and pressed himself up against a wall. Unfortunately, instead of a wall, there was already somebody else there. The person gasped, or tried to, but Severus snapped his hand up to cover their mouth. They were pressed together, limb to limb as whoever was hidden raised hand to place on top of his. The footsteps echoed, getting louder and louder, until they passed and eventually faded away. Their hearts thudded together as they waited for absolute silence, then Severus pulled back.

“My apologies. I believed this passage to be empty,” he said silkily.

“Snape?” hissed a disgustingly familiar voice. He allowed himself to be thrown out of the passage, and onto the corridor floor. He looked up at Sirius Black, as sinfully pretty as he remembered. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, then stood.

“Sorry,” he said, and walked away. Black’s jinx bounced off the shield he’d generated, and into a wall. He turned. Black stood there unashamed. He snorted, and walked back to the common room. Imbecile.


	2. Revelations

It was as he was scanning a years old book that he had his moment of luck.

_Basilisk venom is the most deadly of substances. The only manner of assassination that is known to be deadlier is the killing curse, the most feared curse of them all._

He’d scoffed, at first at the book, but then at himself.

Of course. The killing curse was not survivable. He walked into the room that held the hidden diadem, and gathered his magic.

“Avada kedavara,” he said. The diadem screamed shrilly, and a black smoke like substance writhed, before dissipating into the atmosphere. He sagged. The magical energy that had taken was immense. He resisted a victory dance but couldn't help feeling smug.

He now had a way of killing horcruxes. He supposed this was ‘air’. Whatever it was, it would do.

Black was a fucking pain in the arse. He tripped him, jinxed him, tried to belittle him. Potter attempted to subdue him, but Black was having none of it. Severus was used to such behaviour, and found it beneath him. He ignored Black, but that only made him madder. Eventually, Black taunted him by revealing that if he really wanted to know Lupin’s secret, he should follow him tonight. Severus remember being obsessed with the truth in his sixth year. Now, with age and experience, he wondered how he had ever been persuaded upon such a foolish endeavour. Arrogance and rage, most likely.

Instead, he cornered Lupin mid-afternoon. He looked horrific, undoubtedly the toll of the full moon.

“I know your secret, wolf,” Severus said, and Lupin paled, more than he thought possible. He was tempted to suggest that Black had been the source of the leak. He resisted, in a way.

“Tell Black to lay off me. I’ll keep it, for what it’s worth.” He walked away, and almost ignored the sounds of Lupin having a panic attack. Almost. He turned back, and shoved a vial into his hand.

“Drink it,” he snarled. Lupin gazed up at him, hyperventilating.

“It’s a calming draught.” He took it, and tipped it down Lupin’s throat. Lupin calmed, and closed his eyes.

“Thank you.”

“Please don’t mention it,” Severus growled, and left the man curled up on the floor.

Black, predictably, barrelled into him just days later, pushing him into an empty classroom. He aimed his wand at Severus. Foolish. Not so close that Severus was scared to move, but close enough that when Severus did move, he’d have the upper hand. Severus lowered his eyes, pretending submission, then snapped, tripping Black’s leg, and snatching his wand. He held Black’s wand in his left hand, his own in his right. Black lay on the floor, angry and gorgeous. How was it fair that somebody so despicable was so fucking good looking?

He did not make the same mistake as Black, and stood several meters away.

“You stood too close, and so were unable to move quickly enough when I retaliated,” he lectured, as if it were a defence class.

“What do you want?” Black hissed, and moved to stand. Severus raised his wand, and Black slumped, unwilling to attack him without a weapon.

“What do I want? I believe it’s you who attacked me,” Severus sneered. Black flushed, just slightly. Enough that he noticed, although he wouldn’t have before.

“What are you up to?” Black growled. “James wants a truce, Lupin says he owes you a debt, and Lily likes you again. I know you’ve tricked them you slimy git. What’s the truth?” Severus laughed. He actually laughed.

“You’re an idiot. I told them the truth, and they took my word for it.” He walked to the door. “Try to grow up.” He threw Black’s wand at him, and slipped away. Black stormed out moments later, but Severus, disillusioned, appeared to have disappeared.

“Bloody Severus Snape,” murmured Black, and he sulked away.

Christmas was soon upon them. Severus had no intention of staying at the castle over the holidays. He would devote his time to the destruction of the horcruxes he knew of. Unfortunately, Albus had other plans.

“I presume you’ll be staying over Christmas?” he said. Severus resisted shouting and cursing, but only just. He could not give Albus an acceptable enough excuse for him to leave the castle for the holidays, especially as he was underage and had nowhere appropriate to stay considering his hatred of his father.

“I am,” he said instead. “Did you have any luck with the information I gave you?” Albus gazed at him owlishly.

“I did, as a matter of fact, I suppose it can do no harm to tell you. The ministry searched Lucius’s manor from top to bottom. They found a very suspicious library, full of dark artifacts, one of which intrigued me to no end.” Let him believe that ‘Mr Snape’ had no knowledge of horcruxes.

“Did you destroy it?” Severus asked.

“The ministry has a room that uses Fiendfyre to destroy such items. I think you will find that the diary made its way there.” Hopefully that was the truth. “In fact, an Auror was found attempting to smuggle it out, and so Alastor and I supervised its destruction ourselves.” That was a relief. He nodded, and made to leave.

“Severus,” Albus called. He turned, as he always would. “The ministry is happy to grant you permission to use your mother’s maiden name, and to name you heir to her estate, given your usefulness in this situation.”

“Thank you Professor.” He exited the room, and removed himself just beyond the wards. Then he allowed himself to break down. He sank against the wall.

Severus Prince. He was no longer a Snape. Even better, he had access to the Prince Vaults, a fortune that rivalled the Potter’s. Why had he not looked into this in his own time?

On the next Hogsmede weekend he disapparated to Diagon Alley the moment he escaped a teacher’s gaze.

The first thing he did was open an account, and revealed that Severus Prince, Severus Snape, and Maxwell Smith were the same person to the goblins, although he would continue to use his false name for his potions business. His money was consolidated. He left it entirely to Hogwarts in the event of his death.

He then bought a new wardrobe, and disposed of the old one. He wasn’t vain, but he wasn’t foolish enough to believe that nobody cared what you wore. Old, stained robes endeared you to no one.

He had a muggle haircut. It was terrifying, trusting someone with a pair of scissors so close to your throat. Better than a wand, which was the wizarding way. It now fell to his cheek bones, much easier to control.

He bought a new trunk, and enough potion stock to last him the year. He bought books, and equipment, and a notebook that he charmed to reveal its contents only to himself. He wrote down as many recipes for previously created potions that he could remember, and started brewing them.

Lastly, he bought an owl. He then informed Lily, who was staying with the Potters, of his most propitious development.

Fortunately, he was the only final year Slytherin staying at Hogwarts, so he didn’t have to hide from his house mates. Unfortunately, both Black and Lupin were staying for the holidays.

Even worse, they had taken to sitting at his table in the library while they studied. It was most infuriating. Lupin even asked for his help on his assignments, which he reluctantly gave. Anything to prevent them quizzing him on his own research.

Christmas Eve arrived, and he sent a present for both Lily and Potter, to his disgust. Lily received a yearlong subscription to Potions Weekly. As it was incredibly rude to send one to a guest, and not the host, he sent chocolates for the entire Potter family.

He was halfway through attaching the most horrific pair of socks he could find to the unfortunate owl when he realised that he and Albus had not ever exchanged gifts in this timeline. He paused, shrugged to himself, and continued upon his mission. Albus would make of it what he would.

“You’ve changed, Snape,” a voice called out from the darkness of the owlery. He span, wand extended.

“Homenum revelio,” he called. A flash of light, and Black stepped out from the shadows.

“And I’m Snape no longer. My father was an abusive fuckhead, and so I’ve taken my mother’s maiden name; it’s Severus Prince.” Black stared at him. Severus allowed the silence to drag, but eventually got bored.

“What do you want?” he asked. Black ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it.

“I guess, well, this year, I’ve been a bit of a tit, and you’re not so bad anymore, and everyone keeps telling me you’re decent sort, so urm, sorry.” He fumbled the apology. Severus almost snorted.

“Who put you up to this?” he asked. Black curled one lip, and flash of anger lit up his eyes.

“No one. Remus made me realise I was being a prat, but I chose to do this myself.” Severus inspected him. It appeared he was telling the truth, but Black had always been a weak point for him.

“I accept,” he said, and brushed past Black on his way out. Insufferable bastard.

He received a lovely set of unbreakable vials from Lily for Christmas, and nothing else. He wasn’t surprised. He reluctantly joined his fellows for lunch, and resisted smirking when he saw that Albus was wearing the horrific socks. They were luminescent pink, with bright green snakes wriggling all over them. Even as he joined the table he could hear Minerva complaining that they were an eye sore. Albus winked at him, and he nodded back.

He declined all forms of alcohol, as he was preparing to sneak out early afternoon. Most would be too intoxicated to notice his absence, and hopefully those that did would ignore it. Lupin and Black sat almost across from him, and he could feel Black staring at him. At one point he caught his gaze, and raised an eyebrow. Black genuinely flushed, and looked away. Fascinating.

Lunch drew to an end, and he exited when it was appropriate. He donned his most sturdy of outfits, pocketed several essential potions and strode toward the Hogsmede tunnel. He exited through Honeydukes, and sealed the tunnel after him. There was a thunk as somebody tried to lift the stone, and failed. He smirked. An invisibility cloak was only as good as the person beneath was silent.

He apparated to Little Hangleton, and despite the spectres Voldemort had left to protect the stone, found that the killing curse still worked wonderfully to destroy the horcrux, leaving behind a small black stone with a jagged crack running down the middle. He removed the flesh eating curse that had attacked Albus, but still used gloves and tweezers to pick the stone up. Who knew what else was imbued in the Gaunt family ring. He placed it in a curse proof box, sealed the box and pocketed it. Three down, two to go. He briefly debated going after the locket, but decided that it wasn’t worth the mental, magical and physical exhaustion. He apparated to the Shrieking Shack, and used the tunnel to return to Hogwarts. He wondered how long they would wait in Hogsmede for his return, and tried not to feel smug.

As the year drew to a close, Lupin approached him.

“Would you like to join us for the New Year’s Eve party?” Severus opened his mouth to refuse, but something about Lupin’s expression halted him. The man almost seemed resigned to the fact he would not come.

“Yes,” he said, shocking himself. Lupin grinned.

“Great. Everyone in our year is meeting in the second floor charms classroom at nine. We’ve got a radio for music, but it can’t be too loud else the teachers will find us.”

Severus closed his eyes, and regretted what he was about to say before he said it.

“I know somewhere better. Be on the seventh floor by the painting of Barnabus the Barmy at half eight, but tell everyone else nine.”

Predictably Lupin turned up with Black in tow. Black said nothing, but stared at him. Severus eyed them.

He strode back and forth along the corridor. _I need somewhere to hold a New Year’s Eve party._

The door appeared, and the Marauders’ gaped. There was a sign on the door; 'No Admittance, Except On Party Business'. He smirked to himself.

“Come in.” Severus entered the room. On one side was a bar and seating area, and on the other a dance floor. It was equipped with everything they would need, excluding food and drink, obviously.

“Is someone bringing alcohol?” he asked, and Black produced two bottles of whiskey from god knows where.

“This is fantastic,” Lupin said as he gazed about. Black settled the whiskey on the bar, and poured three measures.

“To Prince, who never fails to surprise us,” he muttered, and swallowed his drink before pouring another. Lupin smiled wryly, and took his own glass. Severus hesitantly took the one he assumed was his own.

“What, think I’m going to poison you?” Black mocked. Severus rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t want to be presumptuous.” He drank, for the sake of making his point. Black watched him with dark eyes.

The alcohol scalded his throat. It was exactly what he needed. He only indulged twice a year. Hallowe’en, and the New Year. He sank into a chair.

“I’m going out to see if anyone else has arrived, and to direct them in,” Lupin announced. And so Severus was left alone with Black. Black sat before him.

“Drinking game?” he asked in a mocking voice that grated upon Severus’ nerves.

“Of what kind?” he enquired. Black grinned. It was resentful and full of self-loathing.

“The secret kind. We each ask a question. The other must answer truthfully, or finish their drink.” Black cast the spell to enforce the game when he nodded. This was just like interrogation under veritaserum, and Severus was an expert at deceit.

“What made you change so radically?” Black asked. Severus smirked.

“I grew up.” Black narrowed his eyes. Severus contemplated his question.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“Because you… You are… Everything you…” Black growled, unable to form an answer, and finished his drink, topping it up again. Interesting. Either the answer was so pathetic he didn’t want to reveal it, or Black had truly gotten over his hatred.

“Where did you go on Christmas day?” Too easy.

“I woke in my rooms, attended the Great Hall for dinner, and then took a long walk before I returned to my room,” he replied. Black laughed, almost despite himself.

“I should’ve known this was a dumb game to play with a Slytherin.”

Severus shrugged. Obviously. “Why didn’t you go home for Christmas?”

Black glared into his drink, then finished it. He removed the spell. “I’m done.” He stood and left with Severus wondering exactly why Black had. Then he remembered the vile tapestry on the wall of Grimmauld Place, Black’s name blasted away.

Lupin sat across from him after a while. The room had filled up, students of all years dancing and singing and drinking.

“You know, believe it or not, he was actually trying.” Unfortunately Severus could. He watched Black grind up against numerous conquests of either sex, slipping away before they engaged him in anything more serious than a dirty dance. As he watched he was astounded Black’s animagus wasn’t a panther. The way he sinuously moved through the throng of bodies was graceful and intoxicating. Severus’ seventeen year old body attempted to indulge him in fantasies that he refused to allow himself. Black threw himself down on the seat before Lupin, bright eyed, panting, and flushed, which was unfortunately right next to Severus. Fuck. He looked like he’d been well shagged. Severus could only imagine how much better he’d look if he actually had been.

“Moony,” Black said, seeming quite coherent for the number of drinks Severus assumed he’d consumed.

“Pads,” Lupin answered.

“Our old friend here Severus Prince has nursed that drink for the entire evening. I don’t think that’s acceptable, do you?” Lupin grinned wolfishly, and Severus was suddenly intimidated by the sign of the man that he would one day become. Black was already well on his way there, more mature than he had remembered.

“Time to play a Gryffindor drinking game,” Black announced. They were quickly joined by Longbottom and Longbottom’s wife to be. Brown, maybe?

“It’s called arrogance. You pour the amount in that you think you could drink in one go, and then flip a knut. If you call the outcome of the flip correctly you pass it along, if you don’t you drink what’s in the glass.” Severus shuddered. A game of pure luck, of which he had none. He would play a round, and then leave.

Three rounds later Severus was very happily buzzed. He refused to play anymore on the grounds that he was seeing more than one knut. Black’s leg was pressed up against his, and Severus leaned back and appreciated the physical intimacy without the expectation of anything more. He closed his eyes. He didn’t fall asleep, but he allowed the atmosphere of the room to wash around him. All the while Black’s presence was a steady comfort. He tried not to look into why. He was nudged into full alertness after a while. His eyes snapped open, and he was confronted by Longbottom holding a tray of champagne glasses.

“From my mum. She insists we celebrate in style.” He accepted one. Black was already holding his, lounging nonchalantly and inspecting Severus.

The countdown to the New Year began and as midnight was announced someone set off some indoor fireworks. He met Black’s gaze and was caught by dark and lustful look. The moment lasted for what seemed like hours, and then Black blinked and looked away. Severus took a sip of champagne, noting it was indeed the good kind, and cleared his throat. Fuck that had been intense, and very confusing.

He sat and watched as they celebrated, and drank his posh champagne. Eventually the room cleared, the merrymakers disappearing in ones and twos, giving into tiredness or other base instincts. Black stayed exactly where he was, toying with his glass. Severus stood, and extended his hand. He retrieved the glass from Black, and their fingertips brushed. The warmth of the other man’s skin shocked him. He placed the glasses on the bar. Undoubtedly the room would return itself to its usual immaculate state when he returned again. As Severus reached the door Black coughed behind him. He turned and found the other man far closer than he should have been.

Black pushed him against the wall. It wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t forceful. The feel of his hands on Severus’ hips set his body on fire. He felt light headed with arousal. Black drove him so fucking crazy. Black traced his hands up his body, resting upon his collarbones and Severus couldn’t help but release a hiss of desire. The fluttering of Black’s eye lashes was the only hint he was in some way affected. Black leaned in to brush their lips together, petal soft. Severus snapped. He span Black up against the wall, pushing him into it. He placed his leg between Black’s for the other man to rut against, pinning both hands above his head with one of his own. He assaulted Black’s mouth, using his spare hand to explore Black’s taught abdomen and chest. When he reached a nipple he brushed over it and Black panted, thrusting against him. He pinched the nipple, stroking it again and Black whimpered, actually whimpered. He repeated the movement as Black writhed beneath him, his erection pressing up against Severus’ thigh, Severus’ own ignored for the moment. He placed biting kisses along Black’s jaw, rough with stubble, and against his pulse, licking and biting his neck.

“Fuck, oh fuck, more please,” Black whined. Severus bit down against the muscle between neck and shoulder. Black groaned. He soothed it with kisses, occasionally dragging his teeth against it again.

“How much do you want this?” he asked as he ground himself against Black. Black moaned, and pushed back against him. Severus withdrew his hips, and placed his hand against Black’s stomach, preventing him from following.

“Beg,” he whispered. Black’s eyes slammed open, pupils dilated, and he seemed to like what he found because he sighed and they drifted shut again. He tugged his arms, not enough to try to free himself, but just enough to push the boundaries of what Severus could hold. He groaned as Severus dug his fingers into his abs as punishment.

“Please oh, fuck, please, please, I want it, please.” Severus surged forward, rubbing them together. Black went lax under his grip, submitting to the pleasure with the occasional murmur. Severus moved his hand to his own erection, using his hips to undulate against Black’s. He whinged and whimpered and begged as Severus thrust against him until eventually he shuddered and fell completely still. Severus followed him to completion moments later with a hiss. Black sagged against the wall and Severus caught him before he could fall. He lowered them both to the floor, and leaned against the wall for support. Black flopped down, head on Severus’ lap. For a moment Severus panicked, and then he realised that Black was not going to die from extreme pleasure. Just to be safe he stroked Black’s neck, noting the pulse and caressing the bite mark. Black trembled, but stayed as he was, and Severus withdrew his hand. He cast a quick cleaning spell on the both of them because the feeling of dried come was not his favourite.

Eventually he couldn’t help himself, and began stroking Black’s hair. Black sighed under his touch, pushing back into the embrace. He closed his eyes. Fuck. He was too old for this. Too old for Black, although Black obviously wouldn’t accept that as an excuse without the entire truth.

“Well that was unexpected,” Black eventually spoke. Severus laughed. How could he not? Black opened one eye and smirked up at him.

“Years of hatred when we could have been shagging,” Severus remarked.

“Remus always did joke about unresolved sexual tension.” Black unfurled from his lap, and removed himself. Severus felt bereft from the lack of physical touch, but instead placed his hands on the carpet.

“See you tomorrow,” Black murmured, and slunk out the door.

Severus closed his eyes.

This is never happening again, he told himself.

Of course, with Sirius Black, nothing is ever quite that simple.


	3. Too Good To Be True

Black spent his life making Severus’ miserable, just as he normally did. Unfortunately he had found a much better way of doing it. When he bumped into Severus in the corridors it was followed with a caress, or a grope, or a simple brush of his fingers along Severus’ collar bones. He stood too close when they lined up for classes, and his eyes followed Severus everywhere with his dark and heated gaze. In lessons he made innuendos that Potter laughed at but drove Severus wild. At dinner he ate in what seemed to be the most seductive manner possible. Once, when he caught Severus watching, he fellated his spoon to the extent that Severus had to excuse himself to the bathroom. His younger body reacted as if someone had charmed him to jump to attention whenever Sirius Black looked his way, and Severus loved and hated it in equal measure.

The worst moment, however, was in defence. It was his birthday, not that Black knew. They were paired up together, no doubt Black’s doing, practising wordless casting. Severus cast a silent incarcerous, and Black fell to his knees as the rope bound him. He stared up, eyes wide and pupils blown, lips bitten pink and parted slightly. He didn’t even think the reaction was intentional, as Black took a few moments to pull himself together after Severus’ immediate removal of the spell.

Their teacher dismissed them, and strode out briskly. Severus dawdled, and noticed Black staring at his books almost dumbly. He nodded as his friends rushed past, eager to get to lunch. The last one left and Severus locked and warded the door with everything he could think of. He strode over to Black and took his chin in his hands.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and Black looked up, pupils still fully blown, a smirk fixed upon his face.

“Hello Severus Prince,” he whispered. Black backed himself against a wall and Severus watched in fascination as Black’s gaze flicked between his lips and his belt. He kissed Black, nibbling upon his lip and Black sighed against him.

“Two weeks,” Black moaned. “I thought I was gonna have to give you a strip tease.” He fumbled for Severus’ waist, stroking the erection he found. Severus returned the favour, although much less hurriedly.

Suddenly, Black sank to his knees, hands shaking as he manoeuvred Severus’ belt. Severus caught his hands with his own, resting them on his hips.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said. Black stared up with pleading, guileless eyes.

“But I want to,” he answered. Severus couldn’t undo his belt fast enough. He placed his hands on the wall before him, bracketing Black in. Black reached into his boxers and extracted him. He gave his length a few experimental tugs, before licking from balls to tip. Severus moaned. He braced his head on his forearm, and placed the other hand in Black’s hair.

Black was inexperienced but wildly enthusiastic, and it easily made up for it. He licked, and sucked and hummed and it was all Severus could do to not fist Black’s hair and shove into the back of his throat. When he did tighten his grip mildly Black whined around his cock, and removed one hand to reach down and touch yourself.

“Don’t do it,” Severus warned. Black whimpered and placed his hand back on Severus’ hip. He sucked Severus in deeper, swallowing around the girth, and looked up. He was the picture of decadence and smut, hands gripping and pulling him in further, the perfect mouth and lips shiny and pink around his cock, his stunning eyes wide with arousal and need. Severus thrust, twice and emptied himself. Black coughed, but took it well. Severus moved back, stroking his face, his neck, his lips. He pressed his fingers into Black’s mouth and he sucked on them like it was an instinct. He kissed the other man, tasting himself, and reached down to Black’s neglected erection. Black shuddered as he stroked him, and it only took a few quick strokes with an almost vicious twist at the end and Black groaned loudly against his mouth as he came. He panted as Severus pulled away, quickly cleaning them, but not releasing the grip he barely realised he had in Black’s hair.

He tugged on Black’s hair, and Black gave an involuntary thrust, despite being utterly spent.

“You love that,” Severus whispered in fascination as he repeated it, and Black whimpered and exposed his neck, leaning his forehead into Severus’ arm.

“Oh fuck Severus.” His voice was entirely wrecked, and Severus took great pleasure from the unpermitted use of his forename.

“Yes Black?” Severus asked as he tugged again and Black’s entire body shuddered. He was still fully dressed, they both were for fucks sake, but something about that made it even hotter.

“Can me Sirius,” Black- Sirius- said.

“Sirius,” Severus whispered as he grazed his teeth along the corded muscle he’d bitten before.

“Yes,” Sirius hissed. He bit the same spot as he tugged on Sirius’ hair again. Sirius convulsed against him, his whine high and needy.

“Not sure I can go again,” Sirius admitted, voice hoarse and entirely debauched. Severus snorted, and drew back.

“You are gorgeous,” he said in a moment of unguarded honestly that he couldn’t bring himself to regret. Sirius’ eyes sparkled.

“Well I think you’re something fierce,” he replied. Severus stood, tucking himself in. Sirius repeated the gesture from the floor, but made no move to stand.

“The lads are gonna grill me when I enter the Hall looking like this,” he muttered, half to himself. He gazed up. “Tell me honestly. How fucked out do I look?” Sirius’s hair was in disarray, his lips bruised, his cheeks flushed and his clothes rumbled. He practically glowed.

“You look like you’ve had the best shag of your life,” Severus concluded. Sirius groaned.

“Maybe I’ll just stay here.”

 Severus laughed. “Good luck explaining the mess to the next teacher in this class room. And you might want to clean your tie.” Sirius glanced down at the ruined garment.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he argued rebelliously. He stretched his arms, exposing a small strip of stomach. Severus swallowed.

“See you around Sirius,” Severus said and turned on his heel.

“See ya Severus.”

As he exited the room, he practically walked into Lupin. The wolf frowned, then stared at him. He probably looked just as well fucked as Sirius did.

“I shall leave you to your own conclusions,” Severus said, and he heard Sirius exit the room behind him. Lupin’s jaw dropped. Severus smirked, and went to lunch.

\--

So he had a repressed urge to fuck some sense into Sirius Black. Who could blame him? At eighteen Sirius was well muscled, tanned, gorgeous and just so damn fuckable it should be illegal. After that two week stint they barely went a day without spending their completion into the other’s hand. Sirius was malleable, and exactly suited to his own tastes, and so they worked well together.

He had not forgotten his search for Horcruxes. It burned at the back on his mind. However he was unwilling to risk sneaking out of the school with all the teachers sober and on high alert as the threat from Voldemort grew greater. The paper went from reporting the attacks as individual occurrences to linked murders, and the ministry started a nationwide search for any that those deemed ‘Death Eater’.

Rumours flew round the school that Sirius Black was fucking Severus Prince nee Snape, and he noted with amusement that generally when it came to the actual act it tended to be the other way round.

“Black? Really?” Lily asked him one day. He smirked.

Exams drew closer and the stress of NEWTs and OWLs made everyone irritable and edgy. He had half a mind to throw caution to the wind, leave school and spend his time purely hunting horcruxes. The only thing that prevented him was the fact that once the war was over he was going to desperately need his NEWTs if he wanted any sort of rewarding job. The tension in the school was palatable, and he avoided his house mates as much as humanly possible.

Of course, it eventually came to a head.

He was minding his own business, walking back from the library one evening, when he heard the unmistakable sound of a hex hurtling toward him. He twisted away, erecting a shield, and span to face his assailants.

Mulciber, McNair and Nott stood, wands brandished.

“We’ve heard the rumours,” Nott sneered.

“Found yourself a Gryffindor lapdog,” Mulciber added. He had no idea how accurate that statement was.

“You’re betraying our Slytherin origins,” McNair said. Severus snorted.

“Don’t speak if you’re going to lower the IQ of the entire school.” They bristled.

“Fuck you, Snape,” McNair said.

“It’s Prince, actually,” he retorted, flicking away their pitiful attempts at cursing him.

“The Dark Lord wishes to send you a message. Either you’re on our side, or theirs.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “I am quite evidently not on yours.”

“Fine,” Nott hissed, and they cast plethora of dark spells at him. He side stepped the cruciatus, and shielded himself from the other two. He’d had years of experience. They had no hope. He cast a silent Expelliarmus, and caught each of their wands in turn. McGonagall appeared just as he caught the last one.

“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded. Severus smiled silkily.

“These three asked me if I was willing to join the Dark Lord. When I replied unfavourably, they attacked me.” He handed her their wands. “I think you will find that using prior incantato will reveal that at least one of those spells was an Unforgivable, and the others certainly illegal.” McGonagall paled, and the three men glared at him hatefully. He smirked.

“Expecto patronum. Albus, I need you outside the library immediately,” McGonagall requested. Her silver cat bounded away. Severus kept his wand trained on McNair, Nott and Mulciber while they waited for Albus to join them. McGonagall briefly explained his accusation when the Headmaster appeared, and Albus performed the spell on each of their wands. Nott had cast the cruciatus curse, and McNair and Mulciber two illegal Dark curses.

“This is most grave,” Albus said. He flicked his wand and the trio were bound. He extended his hand.

“For the sake of being unbiased, I must also test your wand,” Albus said. Severus relinquished it with great reluctance. All that was revealed was the expelliarmus spell, and a few shield spells. Satisfied, Albus returned it.

The ministry was involved, and the Death Eaters were taken by the Aurors for questioning. He was asked to bear witness in their trials, which he agreed to. Finally, he was permitted to leave.

Sirius met him as he exited the office.

“Are you okay?” He ran his hands over Severus’ body.

“I heard, well, terrible things.” Severus stepped away. He had masqueraded as a student for long enough that he had been able to ignore his own conscience. Faced with the undeniable proof of his own superior knowledge and life experience led him to the unmistakable conclusion that his actions toward Sirius Black were wrong. He was a bitter, jaded man in his thirties, and Sirius was a bright young eighteen year old filled with potential. He was a man, and of age, he gave himself that, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of impropriety.

“This is over,” he said, pointing between them.

“I, what? Why?”

“Because I wish it to be,” he growled and stalked away. Sirius caught his wrist and tugged him back.

“I need a better explanation than that. I deserve one.” Infuriating man. He sneered down at him.

“Release me.” Sirius jumped away as if stung. He flushed.

“What did I do?” He gazed up at Severus with pleading eyes. Severus recoiled, and fled.


	4. How To Save A Life

The last few weeks of term were torture. Black barely looked his way, and when he did Severus caught glimpses of confusion, and pain. He felt like a bastard, and it was even worse because he couldn’t explain. Occasionally Black tried to speak to him, but he knew this school better than any of them, and so could easily escape. He was ostracised by the entire school, his only refuge Lily.

“Why did you end it? That’s what he doesn’t get, and frankly I don’t either.” They were sat curled up in the library revising charms. He sighed.

“I can’t answer that Lily, please don't make me.”

“What are you hiding from me?” she quizzed. Too clever for her own bloody good.

“I promise, one day, I will tell you, but I can't right now. Not yet,” he said.

One day he would tell her of an alternative reality where her son was raised to murder Voldemort. But not for a long while, or so he hoped. Soon, he and all the other school leavers that were sympathetic to Dumbledore’s cause would be inducted to the Order of the Phoenix. He couldn’t tell them, of course, but he would have to tell Albus something, else Pettigrew would still be entrusted with the Potter’s secret, and would go on to betray them. Albus was going to have a conniption.

“You’re so full of shit,” Sirius said as he walked out from behind a bookshelf. Severus glanced at Lily, who flushed. Betrayed. He could hardly blame her. He stared at the floor.

“Nothing to say for yourself?” He gathered his books, and walked away. Potter glared at him as he left.

He avoided Lily as well, after that.

The exams were easy, thank fuck. He’d hardly struggled the first time round, and only had to brush up on his knowledge before them. The Potions Master examining him nearly had a heart attack exclaiming about how much ‘potential’ he had. Defence was a breeze, hilariously so. Herbology was dull, but necessary. Transfiguration was the toughest, but nonetheless went well. Charms was predictable, and he produced the Patronus upon demand. However, he stared at it in dismay. Where once had stood a silver doe, now sat a playful dog, jumping up to bound around his feet. He determinedly did not look to see who was watching when he banished it.

And so he graduated. He left school with a heavy heart, and resigned himself to doing what he did best; sacrificing his own happiness for the sake of others.

He moved into the Prince Estate. It was far too large for one man, and was rather intimidating. He found a nice two bed-roomed flat and moved into that instead. It was in central London, and had a large basement, perfect for building a potions lab, which is what he did next. He then spent some time brewing potions, and planning his next move. He gained his Potions Mastery, and became the youngest Master in recorded history, and didn’t even feel guilty because he’d achieved a similar title the first time round.

He dwelled on the horcruxes. He wasn’t sure where the cup was. Somewhere safe. Somewhere that had significance for Tom Riddle. Where were the safest places to store an item in the Wizarding World?

Hogwarts, of course, but he’d already found one there, and Riddle wasn’t foolish enough to trust the same place twice. To his own mind, the safest place to store something would be to buy a safety deposit box in a muggle bank, but Riddle was too prejudiced for that, thankfully. Next would be to hide it somewhere remote, like a in the depths of a forest, or in a great expanse of water. Luckily Riddle was far too obsessed with delusions of his own grandeur to ever do that. Severus’ mind kept flicking back the idea of a safety deposit box, and then he wanted to hit himself. Of course. Gringotts. There was a horcrux in the heart of someone’s vault. Damn it to hell. He had no interest in breaking into the most secure bank in the world. And still the question remained: whose vault? In his own time, he vaguely remember Bellatrix bragging that she had been entrusted with something precious of the Dark Lord’s.

Fucking hell. He needed to get into the Black vault. Just his luck. He pushed it from his mind. First the locket, then the cup. He made preparations, not knowing what was in store for him when he reached the island that Albus had claimed the horcrux resided upon. He left a sealed package of his research into potions and horcruxes and a small note explaining the details in his will to Albus, only to be opened in the event of his death.

Finally, the time came for Severus to retrieve and destroy the locket. The penultimate horcrux, provided that Voldemort had not created anymore. He fucking hoped not.

He apparated to a spot on the coast of England and unshrank his broom. Following Albus’ detailed instructions he flew to a small cave, one that Riddle had visited in his childhood. He dismounted and trailed his hands over the walls, feeling the blood magic covering every inch of it. He drew back his sleeve, cut his hand and allowed the blood to fall upon the cave floor.

Part of the cave wall fell away with a rumble. He conjured a light and walked through it.

There he found a trembling Kreacher, wailing as Regulus Black disappeared from view, inferi swarming from all sides. He called for fire and wrapped it around himself, and then plunged his hand into the lake. His arm settled on what he sincerely hoped was Regulus and he wrenched him from the water. He blasted the inferi away, pulling Regulus onto the bank. The inferi grew ever closer, only held away by fire, and it was not a spell he could continue for long.

“The locket?” he demanded.

“I has it sir!” Kreacher wailed. Severus placed one hand on Regulus, and the other extended toward the house elf.

“Take my hand.” Kreacher grasped his wrist.

“Nitwit,” he called, and there was a tug on his navel, and the three of them fell into Albus’ office. He ignored the fact that Albus was sitting at his desk, utterly astonished, and felt for Regulus’ pulse. It was there, but weak.

“Anapneo. Renervate,” he said. Regulus’ spine arched as he coughed and heaved on the floor. He took rasping breaths, each looking to be more painful than the last.

“Water,” Severus demanded, and Albus, who had moved to his side, handed him a conjured goblet. He tilted Regulus’ head, coaxing a trickle down, massaging his throat so he swallowed. He left the goblet by Regulus.

“I would like an explanation,” Albus said, and he ignored him.

“The locket. Give it to me.” Kreacher shrank away from him. “I can destroy it, you foolish elf.”

“Do it,” rasped Regulus, and Severus’s gaze flicked to the man lying on the floor, then back to the elf. Kreacher removed it from his neck and extended it. Albus moved to take it from him, but Severus batted his hand away.

“Don’t touch it you fool,” he hissed. He levitated the locket from Kreacher and threw it to the floor. It writhed, hissing, and then opened as Severus approached it, wand raised. Albus was closer, wand also in hand, and black smoke exploded out throwing them both to the floor. Voldemort’s voice hissed at them, and then the smoke twisted into a vision of sorts.

A young girl stood there, bloodied and beaten.

“It’s all your fault, Albus. You’re to blame for my death, and I shall never forgive you,” the girl cried. Severus ignored the stricken noise Albus made.

“Avada kedavara,” he cried, and the curse struck home. The locket screeched and the smoke blew away. Albus stared from his position upon the floor, horror upon his face. Severus knelt by Regulus.

“What poison did you drink?” he asked. Regulus forced his eyes open.

“The potion… in the basin… it never emptied… I was so thirsty. Sorry,” he muttered. Horrific. In his time Severus had been the one to brew that potion. He flipped open his satchel and withdrew three vials.

“This is a rehydration potion, a pain reliever and an antidote to some of the more vile substances that poison contains.” He tipped each one down Regulus’ throat making sure the man swallowed. He now turned to Albus, who was standing over the locket, an odd expression upon his face.

“I will take him to hospital wing, then return.” Albus waved his hand in dismissal.

“Mobilicorpus.” Regulus didn’t say a word as his body was levitated, and Severus thought he might have passed out. He strode from the office, along the corridors and into the infirmary, and deposited the man on a bed, grateful the students had left for the summer. Poppy rushed out.

“Mr Prince! Oh my, whatever has happened?”

“He consumed an Bottomless Nightmare Draught. I have given him three potions; to rehydrate him, to relieve pain, and a general antidote for poisons with a hemlock component.” Poppy tucked Regulus into the bed after transfiguring his robes into pyjamas.

“Excellent work. I shall make sure he is comfortable, and keep him here for the next few days.”

“Very well. I must return to the Headmaster.” He strode back to the office. The gargoyle let him in without a password. Dumbledore was seated at his desk, the remains of the locket before him.

“It appears that this was Slytherin’s Locket,” he murmured as Severus came to stand before him.

“And it was one of Tom Riddle’s horcruxes,” Severus said. Albus paled, but his eyes narrowed.

“One of?” Severus paced before the desk.

“First, there was Riddle’s diary, created while he was still a student here and given to Lucius Malfoy’s protection, destroyed, I remember, by you?” Albus nodded.

“Second, the Gaunt family ring, hidden in the shack, destroyed earlier this year. Third, Slytherin’s Locket, found today by myself and young Regulus Black, destroyed in this office, just moments ago.” He gestured to the wreckage of the room.

“Fourth, Ravenclaw’s Diadem, residing in the room of lost things, also destroyed by me.” Albus’ eyes were bright with unspoken questions.

“Lastly Hufflepuff’s cup, location unknown, although I could hazard a guess.”

“Most remarkable my boy. I must ask- how did you discover them?” Albus said. Severus sneered at him, but resigned himself to finally divulging the truth. He sank into a chair, pinching his nose, taking a moment to gather himself.

“By the year 1997 I had spent twenty years of my life spying on Voldemort for you. The situation was so dire you decided to change the course of history irrevocably. You gifted me with a device, and I used it to return to my young self’s body. This was done in the hope that I can change the outcome of this war and prevent the next one.” Albus’ demeanour changed from that of a grandfather to a warrior. He caught Severus’ eyes and speared him with a legimency attack. Severus threw him out of his mind, and drew his wand.

“Do not press me,” he hissed. Albus stood, Fawkes on one shoulder, regarding him intently.

“I will provide any means of evidence I can, however I will not tell you the details of our future that I do not wish to share. In return you will help me destroy the final horcrux, and protect those I care for.”

“The cause for your change in attitude earlier this year?” Albus enquired. He was far too sharp for his own good.

“Indeed. I, quite literally, grew up.” Albus snorted. There fell a silence, and he could see Albus considering how he should prove the truth.

“I wish to see the memory of our conversation in 1997,” Albus demanded. Severus strode to the pensive, and removed the memory, placing it in the bowl. Albus followed him.

“Before you go I should warn you; you are dying. It is one thing to understand the concept of your own mortality, and another to face it,” Severus said. Albus narrowed his eyes, nodded his head, and he entered the memory.

When he staggered back out he was pale and shaking.

“You were right. I did not expect to see myself like that.” He gazed at Severus, head to toe, undoubtedly noting the differences between his currently and older self. He nodded. “I believe you.” Albus sank into his seat.

“Would you mind coming back tomorrow? I have much to think about.”

“Certainly. I will return at 8 am, if that is acceptable.”

Albus hummed, a faraway look in his eyes that suggested he was already scheming. “See you then.”

He returned the following morning, arriving promptly and was ushered inside.

“Tea?” He accepted a cup. Albus was dressed in vividly coloured robes. He moved quickly, and smiled brightly. This was an Albus he had not seen in years. This was an Albus with hope.

“You’ve got a plan,” he concluded. Albus laughed.

“I guess I should not underestimate what the depths of your knowledge extend to in regards to myself.”

“Or anything else,” Severus remarked.

“Quite so. Now, you don’t wish to tell me everything about your future. That is fine. What will you tell me?” Severus smiled. He had missed these complicated discussions.

“In return for this information, if Potter and Lily are forced to go into hiding I want to be their secret keeper of the Fidelius Charm.”

Albus raised his brows. “That can be arranged. Why?” Severus ignored him. He paced back and forth. He would not reveal the Prophecy unless completely necessary. It was a few years away yet and he was not inclined to paint a target on a child's back, especially after sixteen years of protecting him.

“Firstly, although we cannot prove it to the Ministry, I can provide a comprehensive list of names of Death Eaters, now and in the future. At least this way we can identify the enemy.

“I am currently working on a potion named Wolfsbane, which in my time renders the mind of the wolf unconscious, and so while they are still forced to transform under the full moon they contain full control of their body and sanity. This can be used to negotiate with the werewolves who currently work for Voldemort, or persuade those that are neutral to join us. I have brewed this potion before, and although I remember the ingredients I could not remember the exact instructions, and that is why I have not yet introduced it. However, I achieved a perfect result last week, and should Mr Lupin prove willing, you may test it on him this full moon. I am willing to hold on publishing the recipe until the war is over.

“While on the subject matter of Lupin and his friends, Black, Potter, and Pettigrew have achieved the animagus transformation. Black as a dog, Potter as a stag, Pettigrew as a rat. Lupin, Black and Potter are some of your most dedicated followers, and you should not doubt them, although I cannot say the same for Pettigrew. One day you will have a traitor in your midst, although we do not know the circumstances surrounding it, or when he becomes a turncoat. If I were you I would not dismiss him, but feed him incorrect information.

“On the matter of Voldemort’s final horcrux, I believe it to reside in the either the Lestrange or the Black Vault in Gringotts. Unless it is possible to retrieve it without alerting Bellatrix we should leave it there until the last possible minute, for he will surely check his other horcruxes and realise that they are absent. When we retrieve it we should immediately aim to kill Voldemort. And, if possible, we should try not to kill him until then. If his body is destroyed, but his horcruxes remain then the soul part that was contained in Voldemort’s body becomes a wrath, and lives on.”

Albus inspected him, drawing patterns on his desk with his fingers as he thought.

“This is indeed grave news, but also has brought me hope that I had not expected. Firstly, I would like to make you a member of the Order of the Phoenix. We are currently holding meetings in Hogwarts, although I should like to find a more secure base. Secondly I believe that we can ask Sirius if he can get us into the Black Vault.” Severus winced, but said nothing.

“Thirdly, I would like you to use your expertise to gain information.” Severus blanched, but Albus held up a hand. “I’m not asking you to spy, to but to create a network of spies. Gather information and use your knowledge of the future to measure it against the truth.” Severus nodded.

“That is acceptable. I believe you should also provide training for those who want it.”

Albus frowned. “Training?” Bloody fool.

“The Death Eaters are mainly Slytherins, and some of the fiercest duellers by necessity. You have a rag tag group of people who believe in doing the right thing. You need to teach them how to duel properly, how to evade attacks and how to hide from spies. Hold a weekly session, change the tutors each week, make it optional if you have to, but I bet that almost everyone attends.” Albus’s mouth twitched in amusement, and Severus ignored it.

“An excellent idea. We are holding a meeting next week. Will you attend?” Severus grimaced.

“If you perform the Fidelius Charm on the Prince Manor we can use it as Headquarters, and a safe house if necessary.” he offered with a bitter taste in his mouth. Albus smiled.

“The Fidelius Charm?” Albus asked, tilting his head. Severus stalked to his bookshelf and withdrew an ancient tome.

“This one.” He opened the book and gestured. Albus shook his head.

“Unbelievable. I hadn’t even thought of this book in year.”

Severus smirked. “I know. You need a few exotic ingredients for the potion which I already own, a strong spell master like yourself, a Secret Keeper and a well warded house which I can assure you the manor is. We have all four.”

“Are you sure?” Of course he was sure! He wouldn’t have offered if he wasn’t! He held his tongue and nodded.

“Who shall we make Secret Keeper?” Albus asked as he skimmed the page. “It can’t be me, as I will be performing the charm, it can’t be you as it is your house, and thus the Secret is too close to your heart.”

“Sirius Black,” Severus said. He could see Albus trying not to smile. “If Sirius holds this Secret then he cannot hold the Potter’s Secret, and thus will object less when I offer,” he rationalised.

“As you wish, my dear boy.” Severus rolled his eyes. “Next Tuesday we will perform the charm upon the Prince Manor. Meet us just outside the Hogwarts gates, and you can apparate us there. Wednesday we will hold the last Order meeting here, and inform them of the Secret.” Severus nodded.

“I will prepare the potion. Good day.”

“Farewell,” Albus said, and he left.

The days passed quickly. The potion for the charm was relatively easy, despite being obscure, and Severus brewed a batch so that they could use it as necessary. He spoke to contacts, old and new, and began weaving himself a web of knowledge about the Dark Lord. Tuesday crept up on him and he tried to ignore the sense of impending doom. He told himself that it was because Voldemort was growing stronger, but he knew that the sickening feeling in his gut was from the thought of seeing Sirius, facing the accusing eyes and hateful sneer.

He gathered his potions and apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. Moments later Sirius and Albus walked down the steps of the castle toward him. He nodded at them both. Sirius looked at him curiously, but said nothing.

“Has Albus explained what we are doing?” he asked. Sirius’ eyes widened.

“Yes Professor, um Dumbledore, um Albus has,” Sirius stuttered. Severus exchanged an amused glance with Albus, although neither of them knew that it had taken him years to get used to not using the honorific.

“Very well.” He extended his arm. They both grasped it, and he apparated them to Prince Manor.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he muttered sarcastically. “Topsy!” he commanded. The elf popped into existence.

“We’re going to be performing the Fidelius Charm on the manor, so stay by my side, outside the wards until it’s done, okay?” Tipsy nodded.

“Yes Master Severus!” he squeaked. He closed his eyes and felt for the house wards. They shimmered into existence, strengthened through age and powerful ward stones that absorbed ambient magic. He took Sirius’ hand and felt for his magic, transferring control of the wards to him. He ignored the heat of Sirius’ fingers against his own.

“Keep your magic open, drink this, and stay standing. Don’t resist when you feel the wards tug at something within you, they’re supposed to.” He nodded at Albus who began chanting, his wand forming complex figures that directed the magic toward Sirius. He watched as light shimmered around the manor and tied Sirius to it. There was a sudden flare of magic and… and…

Severus blinked. He rubbed his eyes.

“Sirius? Albus? Where are we?”

Albus stared at his wand. Tipsy stared at her hands and began wailing. “I’m not entirely sure.”

Sirius staggered to his feet from where he’d been sprawled upon the floor. “We’re at your house,” he said, smirking. Severus frowned. He glanced around.

“Urm…”

Sirius laughed. “This is fantastic.” He shook his head. “The Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix is Prince Manor, Hampshire.” Severus blinked, and his manor flickered into existence. Tipsy gasped and popped into the Manor. Albus laughed.

“Jolly good. At least it works. Wonderful job Sirius.”

Severus nodded. “Well done. Would you mind returning control of my wards to me? The Fidelius will stay with you until we break it, but…”

Sirius crossed his arm and scowled.

“No, actually.” Severus stared at him and sighed. He should have guessed this was coming. Bloody stubborn mutt.

“I want to know what’s going on with you. You’ve changed. Completely. Last year you were well on your way to becoming Death Eater extraordinaire, and now you’re more mature, and less evil, but you won’t explain why you don’t want to sleep with me, and you call Dumbledore Albus, and there’s just something wrong.” Albus snorted and Severus glared at him. He held up his hands.

“I suspected something like might happen, especially if we use your knowledge for our own gains. Ultimately, obviously, it is your decision, Severus. Although I believe we can trust Sirius to keep your secret, and others.” Severus rubbed his eyes. This was the last thing he wanted to do. Albus wandered away, and he tried to ignore the old man’s grin.

“I’m from the future, and it’s not pretty. I’m a thirty eight year old man in an eighteen year old body, and I spent twenty years working for Albus. The future was so dire we decided to send me back to fix it. I’ve literally grown up. When I first arrived I allowed myself to pretend I was young again, but frankly it was a ridiculous delusion. After McNair and such attacked me I realised that I wasn’t eighteen, although I may look like it. I’ve got twenty years of life experience, and I was lying to you. It wasn’t fair on either of us.” Sirius gaped at him. Then he snorted.

“Explains a lot.”

And that was all. Bloody Gryffindors. He transferred Severus’ wards back to him. Severus set them so that the three of them could enter, and gestured. They stepped in. He started on allowing the members of the Order of the Phoenix he trusted to apparate straight in. Namely himself, Albus, Sirius, and Lily.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to stop pursuing you though.” Sirius said. Severus spun.

“You can’t be serious,” he said, flinging his hands in the air in desperation. Sirius grinned.

“My parents named me, take it up with them.”

Severus narrowed his eyes as Albus laughed. “I’m stuck in the past with imbeciles,” he grunted. He led the way into the dining room.

“You can’t tell anyone. Not Potter, not Lupin, not Lily, and especially not Wormtail.” He spat the last name in disgust.

“I promise,” Sirius said seriously. Severus huffed, but acknowledged it with a nod. He fixed his gaze on Albus.

“How is Regulus doing?”

“Reggie?” Sirius asked.

He rolled his eyes. “You didn’t tell him?” he asked incredulously. Albus looked sheepish. “Regulus betrayed the Dark Lord, and nearly died.” Sirius gasped.

“No way.”

“Perhaps you ought to take him to his brother?” Severus said. “I have much to do to prepare for the influx of the Order tomorrow.” Albus nodded.

“Certainly, dear boy, if you think Regulus has truly betrayed him.”

Severus considered it.

“I do. Don’t release him from Hogwarts until I’ve had a chance to speak to him. Although the Dark Lord does not know he’s been betrayed we cannot risk the chance of him finding out. Don’t tell anyone else.”

“Very well. I shall see you tomorrow.” Albus apparated away. Sirius winked at him before following suit. Severus sagged into an armchair once they left. He was surrounded by insane Gryffindors, and in love with one of them. At least this time Sirius didn’t hate him, although he wasn’t sure which was worse. It was far easier expending energy to hate someone than to love them.


	5. Order From Chaos

There were a few complaints when Severus joined the Order, mainly based around him being a Slytherin, but he displayed his bare left arm, swore to keep their secrets and fight the good fight, and with Albus as his sponsor and Sirius, Lily and Potter (who Sirius had obviously said something to) supporting him they hustled through the business in no time.

“We have found a headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix,” Albus announced grandly. Such a drama queen in every way. “I have hidden it using the Fidelius Charm. We will give you coordinates to apparate to. Those that cannot apparate, or use coordinates, pair up with someone that can, and we will go there from the front gate.” He led the way out the hall, and down the steps. The plan was to tell them in the unknown place, so that anybody spying on them from within would be unable to follow without being obvious when they arrived. They exited the Hogwarts wards and Severus led the apparition. They arrived in the field before Prince Manor. He cast privacy charms and silencing wards, ever cautious as the rest of the group arrived. Sirius came forward, casting a sonorus.

“The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is Prince Manor, Hampshire.” People gasped as the manor came into sight. Severus resisted rolling his eyes and led them into the manor to the dining room which had been turned into a conference room, with a circular table and many seats. There was a wall that contained mugshots of known Death Eaters, listing strengths and weaknesses, and numerous other inconsequential pieces of information that it didn’t matter if Voldemort found out they had, but were useful to all members. He eyed Pettigrew who was inspecting the wall, and wondered at what point he turned. Had he already? Lily bustled over to him.

“I’m so sorry Severus. I shouldn’t have betrayed your trust. Sirius says what happened is between the two of you, and I agree. I miss you Sev, I don’t want to fight.” He brushed his hand over the back of hers.

“It’s alright. I suppose I overreacted.” He glared at Sirius for giving her ideas. “But it is between the two of us.”

“This is great old chap,” Potter said, smacking him on the back. When had this become his life? Severus winced, glanced at Lily, and forced a smile.

“Thanks. Take a seat.” Everyone shuffled in. Many were incredulous, those that hadn’t taken the war seriously and hadn’t really thought about what it meant to be part of the resistance. Severus gazed around as people settled. He recognised many faces from both his other past and the future. Molly and Arthur Weasley. The Prewett twins, bound to cause trouble. Moody. Diggle. The Marauders, of course. Aberforth Dumbledore. Marlene MicKinnon. Both the Longbottoms, they’d already married. Flitwick, Minerva, Sprout and Poppy would of course attend. Edgar Bones, Benjy Fenwick, Dorcas Meadows and a few others he didn’t recognise. He slid into a seat at Albus’ right hand.

“Welcome, welcome,” Albus greeted them. “Now, our first order of business, before you turn in your reports. We’re changing things up a little. Instead of reporting to the group, anyone with information will report to our Spymaster.”

“What? Why?” Molly demanded. Severus rolled his eyes.

“Because if everybody knows all the information then everybody has a chance to betray us,” he sneered. Molly recoiled but looked suitably abashed. Albus nodded and fixed the entire group with a steely glare.

“We are at war,” he said grimly. “This is not a game. People are dying, and we are trying to save them. Your information could put someone at danger. So, I also ask you not to discuss this between yourselves, and not ever somewhere that is not properly warded with appropriate secrecy charms.”

“Who are we supposed to report to then?” Fenwick asked, fiddling with his bow tie.

“Me,” Severus said. He could see the looks of doubt on several people’s faces.

“I trust Severus with my life, and I personally requested that he take this position.” Albus warned them in a tone that brokered no questions. “Next, it has been suggested that I offer an opportunity for people to improve their duelling skills, as Voldemort’s forces will hold nothing back.”

“Excellent idea,” Moody interjected. Albus smiled.

“I was hoping you’d organise it.” Moody nodded. “Excellent. Anyone interested please sign up at the end of the meeting.” Potter and Sirius grinned at each other, while Flitwick caught Moody’s eye to offer his assistance.

“Severus?” Albus offered. He restrained a sneer and stood at the head of the table, and emptied a bag of galleons onto the table. He was not ashamed to say he had pilfered the idea from Hermione Granger.

“These are multi-use one way portkeys with a protean charm incorporated.” Sirius extended one grubby hand toward them and he swatted it away. “The portkey will bring you here. It will only take one person, and that person will be you, once they’ve been personalised. Once each of you receive your galleon, place a drop of your blood on it, as so. Now it can only be activated by you. To activate it say the word ‘portus’.” He was portkeyed to the entrance hall. He walked back in and retook his place.

“As you can see they work through anti-apparition wards, and several other protections. Now, as for the protean charm, that allows us to inform you when the next Order meeting is. I will have the master copy, and will be able to change the date on the coin. Albus will inform me, and once I have changed the date the coin will warm up in your pocket. The reason why I will hold the coin is this: if you have urgent information to tell me then you can tap the coin three times. Mine will then warm up and vibrate, and the name of the person who is contacting me will appear.” Lily grinned at him. He distributed the coins, and the Order took them eagerly.

“Try not to spend them,” Albus joked.

“This is excellent charm work,” Flitwick said as he inspected his coin.

“Isn’t this blood magic?” Dodge said with a nervous giggle.

“Evidently,” Severus drawled.

“A bloody good idea, is what it is,” Aberforth said.

“Keep in mind these are emergency portkeys. You’ll get a few uses out of them, but they are not for playing with.” He glared at the Marauders and Sirius grinned back sheepishly.

“Now, for the last item on our agenda,” Albus said, and Severus sat down, giving him the floor. “It would be greatly beneficial for us if you were to all give us a concise and honest list of your strengths and weaknesses. That way we will be able to assign you to missions as appropriate.” He flicked his wand and a quill and a piece of parchment appeared before everyone. “Discuss, if you like, then pass them back to me.”

Immediately the Order erupted into chaos. Lily nudged him.

“Hey there. Nice digs,” she said with a grin. “I didn’t realise you were joining us, and as Spymaster no less.”

He shrugged. “Slytherin,” he said. “It’s what we’re good at.” She nodded, her eyes bright.

“Alright. Strengths. Charms, potions.” She bit her lip. Severus rolled his eyes.

“Ancient runes. Warding. You’re a quick learner, and have a cool head in a fight.” She laughed, but wrote them down.

“Your turn.”

He grinned. “Well. I achieved my Potions Mastery a few weeks ago.” The surrounding area fell silent. Lily gasped and elbowed him.

“You bastard! And you didn’t tell me! Already?”

He nodded. “Youngest potions master in recorded history.” He could see a few sceptics gazing at him considerately. Lily hugged him.

“Strengths: potions, duelling, spell creation, tactical thinking, defence.” He listed.

“Weaknesses. Transfiguration.” To his frustration.

“Duelling?” Moody scoffed. “Arrogant, aren’t you?” Severus smirked. He’d hoped someone would confront him. He needed to consolidate his position, and he’d never achieve it if everyone thought he was a wet behind the ears youth. Moody had provided a perfect opportunity.

“I prefer to think of it as confident,” he said. “Would you care for a duel?” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Albus smile, and he wondered if he’d put Moody up to it. “I have a training room.” He gestured to a closed door. Moody grinned.

“If you’re offering.” Moody was overconfident, but he was also excellent. Severus led the way and many people lined the room. Albus cast a duelling ward, preventing spells from hitting the audience. Moody and Severus stepped in. He bowed mockingly, and Moody nodded.

“First to disarm, or yield,” Moody announced.

“Start,” Albus said. Severus ducked the first hex and conjured a ball of fire that Moody had to shield from, forcing him on the defensive. He didn’t bother spelling himself invisible, his usual follow up as with Moody’s eye that was pointless. Moody banished the fire and they exchanged stupefies. Severus lazily waved his wand to deflect it as Moody shifted away from his own. He cast an incarcerous, then flicked his wand at the floor, spelling into mud. Moody shielded from the incarcerous but missed the second spell and tripped, falling to one knee. Severus cast three spells, a stupefy, a tripping jinx and an expelliarmus that followed immediately after. Moody deflected the first two, but the tripping jinx and the expelliarmus were the same colour, and close enough to look like the same spell. The expelliarmus crashed into him. Moody staggered back, and Severus deftly caught his wand.

Moody got to his feet and grunted with a nod of acknowledgment. He clapped and the room joined in. Severus blinked. He returned Moody’s wand, and the man shook his hand.

“Good job son. I’m impressed.” Severus inclined his head. He suspected that if they duelled again it would not be so easy. Moody had underestimated him, to his demise.

“Years of dodging spells in the corridors of Hogwarts,” he said, sneering at the Marauders. The duelling ward fell and Sirius punched him in the arm.

“Happy to be of help,” he said with grin. Severus rolled his eyes.

“Prat.” He turned to the room.

“Are you satisfied that I am sufficiently competent, or do I have to duel you all?” A few people laughed, but no one challenged him, and they returned to the dining room. He could see people taking the assignment more seriously. A good evening’s work.

People began leaving in dribs and drabs. Albus collected the parchments and Severus began sifting through them, listing skills and weakness, and who would work well together, who could fight and who could spy, planning training and listing difference safe houses that needed to be warded. There were a few people he’d under estimated that had interesting talents. Molly Weasley had apparently studied under Flitwick as a duellist, and Arthur had some expertise in curse breaking. Combined with Elias Doge’s raw power and mage sight they might be able to work toward a method for breaking through anti-apparition wards laid down by the Death Eaters. They’d used terror tactics, preventing people from escaping and forcing them to fight back to protect their selves and others. They also needed someone with an affinity for Dark magic, someone who could replicate and track a Dark Mark. Dumbledore had theorised it would be possible in the last war but they’d not had the time to devote towards creating it. Unfortunately it seemed that Sirius was the best option. He’d have to work with Regulus, conveniently Marked, and the Blacks always did have a knack for the Dark Arts.

Severus sighed. They needed to discover whether Peter Pettigrew was marked. Was it unfair to judge him for actions he’d not yet performed? He debated whether making him go missing was the best option, or whether it would be possible to keep him in the dark. Unfortunately it seemed that the Marauders still trusted each other, which meant anything he told one he told them all. If Peter discovered the truth about Regulus then his life would be forfeit. Did they need more than one spy in the Outer Circle? He could always interrogate him, then obliviate him, but if the Dark Lord looked too far he might notice the discrepancy. He grimaced. Frankly, Pettigrew was too dangerous to leave alone. Regulus was another problem, one he’d have to deal with soon. Voldemort wouldn’t accept his long absence without an excuse.

A creaking floorboard disrupted his thoughts and he stood, wand at the ready. Sirius rolled his eyes and shoved the wand away.

“Quick reflexes,” he commented. Severus rolled his eyes and took a step back. Sirius matched him step for step until his back hit the wall.

“This is wrong,” he whispered. Sirius smirked, brushing his hands over Severus’ arms.

“I know you want it. I know I want it. What’s so wrong about that?”

Severus winced. “I don’t understand you.” He pushed past Sirius, suddenly furious. How dare he be such a temptation? Sirius took his hand, brushing his thumb over the knuckles of his clenched fist. “I don’t want you,” he said, steeling his voice and tugging his hand away.

“You do,” Sirius insisted, and he snapped. Severus shoved him face first against the wall, forcing him to lean on his arms. He tugged Sirius’ head back with a firm grip in in his hair, and conjured lube. He shoved Sirius’ trousers down, and thrust one finger inside him.

“Is this what you want?” Severus hissed. Sirius whined and clenched around him. He added another finger, then a third, stroking and stretching. He pulled Sirius’ hair to the side, forcing the man to press his cheek up against the wall. Sirius panted, his eyes closed and Severus bit a trail all along his neck, grazing his teeth against perfect pale skin. He pushed his clothed erection against Sirius’ side, grinding himself against him. As he twisted his fingers Sirius whimpered, and pushed back.

“What do you want? Ask for it. Beg for it,” Severus demanded, fingers unrelenting.

“Fuck me. Please fuck me. I want it. Please,” Sirius panted, needy and breathless. Severus removed his fingers and, unbuckled his pants and lined himself up. He thrust in, sheathing himself. He waited a moment, then pulled out, and thrust again, and again, catching Sirius’ prostate with each movement. He reached his spare hand round, and roughly jerked Sirius off.

“Yes. Oh fuck. Yes,” Sirius moaned. He couldn’t seem to decide whether he wanted to thrust forward into Severus’ hand, or back onto his cock.

“You intoxicate me. So desperate for it, so pretty,” Severus whispered and Sirius groaned. He thrust harder and bit down, tightening his hand and Sirius clenched around him, coming with a quiet ‘o’. The sensation of Sirius tight and hot around him tipped him over, and he practically collapsed onto him as he spent himself.

He withdrew, untangling his hand from Sirius’ hair, cleaning the both of them and dressing himself. He stood by the window, staring out, resisting punching through it just to see if the shattered glass would look as broken as he felt. He couldn't tell up from down anymore.

“I’m leaving,” he said. He stalked out the room, leaving Sirius in a collapsed mess and apparated to Diagon Alley. He stalked into the Dark Newt and sat at the bar, ordering a fire whiskey and ignoring everything else.

Unfortunately, everything else did not want to ignore him.

“Prince.” Dear lord. What now? He turned, and there, swaying as he stood, was Peter Pettigrew, the snivelling traitor. He pinched the bridge of his nose as Pettigrew took the seat next to him without even a by your leave. At least he could use this to his advantage.

He signalled the bar tender for two more drinks, and allowed Pettigrew to chat aimlessly about Quidditch. The man was already smashed, so he only slid two drops of veritaserum into his drink. He slid it along the bar.

“My treat,” he said. Pettigrew slugged it back in one with a mumbled “cheers” and his eyes immediately became glazed.

“Why are you so drunk?” he asked, hoping the open ended question wouldn’t be too complex.

“So I can forget,” Pettigrew responded blearily.

“Forget what?”

“The Mark,” he whispered. Severus eye his covered forearm.

“When did you get the Dark Mark?”

“Three weeks ago.”

“Why did you betray the Order of the Phoenix?”

“They have my mother,” Pettigrew whispered. Severus winced. It was unlikely his mother had survived the first time around, and by then Pettigrew would have been in too deep to back out. Not that he could now. Serving the Dark Lord was for life.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. Kidnapped.” He slipped him the antidote, a quick obliviate and some legilimency to fix new memories into his mind and Severus swept out the pub. He clenched his fists. That vermin was the reason for so many deaths… but would he do the same if someone he loved was in danger? He winced. Undoubtedly. He already had.

He apparated to the manor and stormed into the sitting room. Sirius was there, reclining on a chaise lounge.

“What are you still doing here?” he growled. Sirius opened one eye and sneered at him.

“Waiting for my good for nothing boyfriend to come home,” he snarled. Severus closed his eyes for a moment.

“Boyfriend? Keep dreaming, Black. I wouldn’t date you if you were the last man on earth. Fuck you maybe, but that’s all you’re good for.” Hurt flashed across Sirius’ face. “You’re just a needy little slut who wants more than he can get.” Sirius winced and gritted his teeth.

“I don’t believe that. I can’t believe that. If that was all you truly thought of me then why would you stop? Why would you care enough to try to push me away?” Severus snorted. When had Sirius become rational? His influence, no doubt. He sighed, his anger fading and tiredness taking over.

“I don’t have time for this right now. As you’re here you can help. We need Potter, Albus, Moody and Arthur.” Sirius jumped to his feet.

“I’ll get James and Dumbledore,” he offered. Severus waved him off and apparated away himself.

“Twice in one night?” Arthur joked as they took their seats at the table.

“Peter Pettigrew’s mother has been kidnapped by the Dark Lord. Pettigrew’s taken the Dark Mark and is spying on the order,” he said in way of an introduction.

“Are you serious?” Arthur asked. Severus glared at Sirius who snapped his mouth shut without making his usual joke. Albus looked grave, but unsurprised as he’d previously informed the man that there was a chance Pettigrew was a traitor.

“You’re lying,” Potter said, slamming his hand onto the table. He exchanged a glance with Albus, who procured the pensieve Severus had requested that he bring. Severus withdrew the memory and the others dived in without further ado. When they re-emerged Moody narrowed his eyes at him, while Potter looked furious and Arthur looked thoughtful. Surprisingly it was Arthur who spoke first.

“I believe you,” he began slowly. “But I’m rather intrigued as to how you knew to ask in the first place.” Potter nodded while Moody huffed his agreement. Albus shrugged.

“As I said before, it’s your decision,” Albus said, clasping his hands together and resolutely ignoring Moody’s glare. Severus grimaced.

“You cannot speak of what I am about to say, to anybody. If Voldemort discovered what I know, the war would be lost, completely.” Moody raised a brow.

“That’s a rather bold statement,” he said.

“But nonetheless true,” Albus intervened. Potter glanced at Sirius, who was smirking at the rest of them.

“You already know,” he accused. Sirius chuckled.

“Yup,” was all he deigned to say. Severus rolled his eyes.

“I’m from the future, in world where Pettigrew stayed a traitor, and is the direct reason for several deaths.” He nodded at Potter. “Yours, Lily’s,” He glanced at Arthur. “Molly’s brothers. And many more.”

“You bastard,” Moody growled, but there was a twinkle in his eye that suggested he wasn’t truly mad. “That’s how you beat me.” Severus smirked, and shrugged.

“How far into the future?” Arthur asked, a speculative look upon his face.

“Twenty years.” There was silence.

“Voldemort’s still around in twenty years’ time?” Potter whispered. He nodded curtly and a moment of silence settled over the room. Then Moody's face twisted into an ugly grin.

“But you know how to win the war, and kill Voldemort,” Moody said slowly. Severus grinned back. It was a vicious thing, filled with pain and anger and cruelty as how his life had originally turned out.

“I know how to win the war, and kill Voldemort,” he confirmed. His grim smile was echoed by those around him.

“Back to our original order of business,” Albus reminded them.

“We have to free her!” Potter exclaimed.

“Wonderful idea Potter, please elucidate us all on your no doubt detailed and fool proof plan for doing that,” Severus drawled, and was rewarded with a glare.

“I suppose you have one then?” Potter hissed.

“Obviously. Here’s what we’re going to do.” He outlined the plan. It was quite ingenious, if he said so himself.


	6. A Houdini Moment

The six of them stood in the cemetery outside Rookwood Manor. This was where Voldemort had kept his prisoners last time, and he had no reason to suggest that had changed. It was pissing rain, and they were all soaked to the bone.

“You know what to look for?” he whispered to Sirius and Potter. They nodded and began the slow grid search of the gravestones. Severus slipped to just outside the Manor wards, cautiously testing them and Moody and Arthur followed.

“Not so sure I can do this,” Arthur muttered. Severus ignored him. There were no anti-animagus wards, as he’d predicted. A massive oversight that many wizards made.

“Pst,” Sirius hissed. He stalked over to them. “I’ve found it.” Severus gazed down at the memorial for Frederick Rookwood.

“Wait here,” He traced the path they would take before reaching the wards, and beckoned Moody and Arthur other. “This is where the passage will meet the wards, if I remember correctly,” he said. Moody raised a brow.

“And if you don’t?” Severus glared.

“I’m sure I do. Now, Arthur, Albus gave you a brief overview.” He nodded. “You can do this.” He said, the words of encouragement strange in his mouth. Arthur snorted.

“Go on then.” Severus made his way back to Potter and Sirius. He cast a quick silencing charm, and then pressed the statue’s nose. With a rumbling sound the grave stone fell away, revealing an under-ground passage.

“Are you sure I can’t come?” Potter whined. Severus fixed him with a glare.

“You have the biggest animagus form, and you told us that barely three people can fit under the cloak. I’m not sure how we’ll manage with four.” Potter grimaced and waved them off.

“You know you’ll make a good distraction. Besides, I thought you liked being the centre of attention,” Sirius teased. Severus flicked him. Sirius shifted, and took Potter’s invisibility cloak carefully in his mouth.

“Ready?” Potter shifted into a stag. Severus jumped into the passage, soon followed by Padfoot.

“When I shift, we move.” He glanced at them both, then shifted into his animagus form, a black cat. Immediately they both began moving forward, Potter tracing the passage above them. The wards would feel something large move through them, and they were hoping they’d attribute it to Potter, as a deer. They raced along the dirt tunnel, Severus leading the way. He could feel the wards probing them but he charged on. They reached the end of the tunnel, directly beneath the Manor dungeons. Severus shifted back. He cast a quick spell ascertaining that there was no one in the room above them. He then pushed the trap door up. Fuck. It was stuck. He nudge Sirius with his foot. The man changed back. They both pushed at the trap door. With a clatter it fell away, likely loud enough to wake the dead. He shoved Sirius up, throwing the cloak after him, and pulling himself up, quickly replacing the trap door.

“What the hell was that?” someone growled. He could hear footsteps getting closer. He changed back into a cat, Sirius pulling the cloak over the both of them and crouching down. Sirius glanced at the door and quickly conjured two rats. The door smacked open as he withdrew his wand, far too close for comfort.

“Fuck!” It was Theodore Nott. “Bloody rats,” he exclaimed, and stormed out the room. Sirius shifted back into a dog, and they padded along, side by side, the cloak over the both of them and gripped in Sirius’ mouth. They walked into the dungeons. Only two were filled. Mundungus Fletcher, and Margret Pettigrew, both of them out for the count. He swallowed as he looked at Fletcher, but they couldn't bring him with them as well. Mrs Pettigrew looked awful, black rings around her eyes, and vaguely bloodied clothing. Severus slipped through the bars of the cell. He shifted back covering her mouth with his hand, and shook her awake. Thankfully he’d muffled her scream, but she began shaking beneath him.

“I’m here to save you,” he whispered. Her eyes widened. He cautiously removed his hand. She didn’t scream. He swivelled as the door creaked open. Sirius had managed to unpick it. Sirius slid the pack he’d been wearing over. Severus grabbed it and pulled out a petrified, shrunken pig, and he unshrunk it. He also pulled out a vial of his own special brand of polyjuiced potion. He took a hair from Mrs Pettigrew, placed it in the potion and force fed it to the pig. He moved back as the pig shuddered, and transformed into a slightly pinker and more portly version of Mrs Pettigrew. It was close enough. She stared at her double with wide eyes. Sirius was working on unpicking the locks on the chains around her wrist. Severus slipped the chains onto the transformed pig.

“Can you stand?” She nodded, and slowly got to her feet. Sirius escorted her out, and round the corner. “Avada Kedavra,” Severus muttered after giving the pig the same bruises. It would look like she’d died from a heart attack. He took over from Sirius, who went back to lock the door. Mrs Pettigrew didn’t need to see her own corpse.

“Put on the cloak. I will lead the way. Sirius will follow with you.” He shifted back into a cat, and poked his nose around the door. All clear. He lead the way back to the room with the trap door. He changed pulling it aside and jumping in. Mrs Pettigrew followed, and Sirius after her. They carefully manoeuvred the door back on top. Sirius grinned and opened his mouth to say something. Severus slapped a hand over it.

“I told you, I heard something!” That was Rookwood.

“Probably just the rats, like I said,” Nott argued.

“We don’t have rats!”

“Go,” he mouthed at Sirius. He shifted, taking off down the corridor. Severus and Mrs Pettigrew, under the cloak, continued at a more sedate pace. He made them stop just before the wards.

“Sirius will come back and tell us once the wards are down,” he whispered. The black dog tumbled back down the passage. He paused, then nodded. Severus nudged Mrs Pettigrew and she walked through the ward. Severus shifted and followed her through. They hastily made their way out of the passage. Potter was waiting, portkey at the ready. Moody, and an exhausted looking Arthur joined them. Severus shut the passage and placed his hand on the portkey. His heart was racing and he could barely believe they’d done it.

“Ready?” Everyone nodded. “Portus.”

They landed back in his Manor. Poppy was on standby, having been fetched by Albus, and immediately hustled away.

“Congratulations are in order,” Albus said and Severus huffed. The four other men collapsed into chairs, Moody looking pensive, Arthur looking tired, Potter distressed and Sirius… Severus blinked and looked away. Sirius’s gaze had been calculating and heated and Severus’ body was reacting accordingly. He glared at the boy (man, his traitorous brain supplied, along with picture evidence) before taking a seat next to Arthur.

“What now?” Potter asked, subdued in the face of unwavering proof that his friend had betrayed them. Severus bit back his instinctive sardonic response and sighed.

“Now we bring Pettigrew in, pump him full of Veritaserum and try to turn him. We’ll ask him to spy for us, after he’s sworn an effective vow of allegiance.” Potter’s eyes widened and he turned red.

“What! You can’t ask him to go back there! What if Voldemort suspects him?” Severus stood and strode to the other side of the room to pace away his anger at Potter’s ignorance and naivety.

“Pettigrew has taken the Dark Mark,” Albus said softly. “His only two choices are to serve Voldemort, or die. If he were to leave Voldemort would use the Dark Mark to torture him into insanity, and possibly death. We are offering him a way to absolve his sins.”

“I didn’t know that,” Moody muttered and eyed Albus curiously.

“That is because no one has tried to leave the Dark Lord yet. I assure you, it can, and will happen,” Severus said. Moody narrowed his eyes, and Arthur paled.

“Unless I am required for the next part, I will take my leave,” Arthur said. Albus caught his eyes and Severus nodded.

“First we require you to take a vow not to betray a word of what we have revealed this evening. It put many people’s lives on the line.” Potter frowned.

“Don’t you trust us?” he whined.

“It’s not a matter of trust you blithering imbecile!” Severus growled, his patience at it’s end. “What if the Dark Lord held Lily under the cruciatus? What would you tell him then? What if he used his extensive legilimency skill to break into your mind, and ripped the information from you? The vow prevents that.” Potter recoiled, his mouth gaping like a fish, when with Sirius touched his arm.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Sirius said quietly. A consensus was reached and each swore their vow. One by one they left, even Sirius this time, surprisingly aware that Severus needed his own space. Only Albus remained.

“You’ve done well, my boy. I’m so proud of you. We’ll discuss the next steps tomorrow,” he said quietly, before he was away with a whisper of apparition. Severus closed his eyes. Although Voldemort might not realise it, the Order was formidable, more than it ever had been before. His presence was working. He just hoped it was enough.


	7. A Disrupted Date

In another life Regulus and Severus had bonded over their distaste of general Death Eater behaviour and their affinity for potions, after they had chained themselves to the Dark Lord. Regulus was lying on a hospital bed, due to be released today, eyes shut, looking far better than when Severus had last seen him. Despite his illness he was still handsome, looking even more aristocratic than Sirius, if that was possible, with luscious black hair and high cheekbones set against creamy pale skin. Blue eyes opened, sensing his presence and Regulus shifted so he was sitting upright. Severus strode in, seating himself by the bed. Regulus cocked an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips.

“Severus, you’re looking well,” he drawled. “What brings you here, for the dubious pleasure of seeing little old me?”

“I need not say that you’re looking better than when we last met. Of course, you were dying, so I suppose that’s no surprise. And I think you know.” Regulus tilted his head, eyes sweeping over Severus’ form. He tried not to bristle.

“Hmm. I was dying, and you saved me.” He batted his eyelashes. “However can I repay you?” Severus resisted rolling his eyes. When Severus had been an unimportant, average student Regulus hadn’t been remotely interested, nor even when they’d both suffered under the tyrannical reign of an insane Lord.

“I can think of a few things,” he replied. Regulus’ smile widened, and he stretched a hand toward Severus’ knee. Severus snatched it, twisted it over, pushing back cloth to reveal the Dark Mark.

“For example, spying on your old master,” he said. Regulus tugged his arm back, eyes narrowed, and paler than before.

“Severus,” he said, and his hands were shaking. “You can’t be serious?”

“That would be your brother,” Severus said in a brief moment of weakness. Regulus’ eyes widened, as if to say, now? Really? Severus pursed his lips. Fucking Black had rubbed off on him, in more ways than one.

“I’m serious. Deadly. What were you planning on doing? Hiding out in Hogwarts for the rest of your life, pretending to be dead? If the Dark Lord discovers you are alive, and have ignored his summons…” At this Severus inclined his head. Regulus winced. Ah, so he had.

“The Dark Lord’s service is for life. You can’t back out. You have three options. Flee, and hope he won’t find you. He will. Re-join him, and suffer as his servant. Or, spy for us, and help us bring him down.” Regulus looked pale and, frankly, terrified. Even Harry Potter had had more resolve than this, even after his foolish endeavours at ‘saving the world’, loathe as he was to admit it. Severus was struck, for a moment, with how unalike Regulus and Sirius were. Their maturity was miles apart, and not just in age. Severus twitched, not liking the route his thoughts were going, and instead focused on the man before him.

“He’ll kill me,” Regulus said, voice shaky. Severus crossed his arms, unimpressed.

“You should have thought of that before you joined him.” Regulus shrank back into his bed, pulling the covers closer. He closed his eyes.

“Can I think about this?” he asked.

“You have a day,” Severus said, and strode out the room, straight into who else but fucking Sirius Black.

“Heya Sev,” Sirius said cheerfully. Severus winced. He nodded, and tried to slip past Sirius, who instead manoeuvred himself so that they were pressed up against each other.

“Would you like to go for a drink with me?” Sirius asked brazenly, but Severus could see past his façade to the anxiety behind it. He took a moment to inspect the man before him.

Sirius was logical, and far more mature than he had been even as a thirty-year-old man in another life. He knew what he wanted, and wasn’t blinded by irrational prejudice.

Severus sighed. “Yes. But only one drink,” he informed him, giving into weakness.

“Yes?” Sirius squeaked, then coughed. “I mean, um, of course. Four, this afternoon, the Three Broomsticks?” Severus nodded and strode away.

“See you later!” Sirius said, the glee evident in his voice. Severus snorted to himself. He was an imbecile, but Sirius was irresistible.

The Three Broomsticks was crowded but Rosemerta was as efficient as ever. He sat at a table, a glass of Merlot for himself, and a Firewhiskey for Sirius. The man himself slipped in beside him and took a swig of the proffered tumbler.

“Damn. I needed that,” Sirius muttered, then grinned cheekily. “So, who knew I had a thing for older men?” Sirius began. Severus stiffened and Siruis’ face fell.

“Sorry. I wasn’t trying to take the piss, just lighten the mood.”

“It’s fine,” Severus said, taking a sip.

“You’ve done great things for the Order,” Sirius offered. “I feel like we’re now an actually organisation aimed at removing You-Know-Who, rather than a group of people sitting round a table bemoaning the current state of affairs.” Severus’ lips twisted into a smirk. The Order was coming along spectacularly. Last week they’d managed to intervene between Death Eaters and civilians in Diagon Alley, and not a single life had been lost. The duelling practise had certainly been paying off.

“Sev!” someone cried across the pub and he sighed, because there was only one person who called him that in that tone of voice. He turned, and sure enough, there was Lily, winding her way through the masses, pulling a reluctant Potter and a smirking Lupin.

“Did you put them up to this?” Severus asked. Sirius looked over and paled before grimacing.

“No. Sorry. I guess I mentioned it to Remus but I didn’t think they’d come along!” The three of them squeezed into their booth and Severus was crushed between Lily and Sirius. Their thighs were pressed together and Sirius dropped a hand to rest on his knee. Severus’ glare persuaded him to remove it.

“Lily,” he said. “Potter, Lupin.”

“Prince,” they replied with a nod. Lily huffed.

“Don’t you think it’s time you three used first names?” Severus winced, and cleared his throat. Somehow he’d become part of their little group. Oh how his older self would turn in his non-existent grave if he’d known this was going to happen. He could only imagine the look on Harry Potter’s face if he could see them now.

“James. Remus,” he managed, attempting to be the mature adult that he was. Potter and Lupin were obviously thinking in a similar vein, as they both managed the same tight reply.

“Severus.” His gaze flicked to Lily and he realised that she was the only one, bar Remus, whom he hadn't told of his time travelling. He grimaced, then flicked a privacy shield around them. In these times they were rather common.

“Lily. I have something to tell you, something that by accident the others have already discovered.” Potter grinned, seemingly glad that he wasn’t required to keep it a secret from his girlfriend. Lily frowned, glancing around.

“Okay…” she said. He sighed.

“I wasn’t planning on telling anyone, but circumstances changed. There’s a device that allows a person to send their memories back into the past.” Her eyes widened.

“Albus Dumbledore invented it. In 1996,” he said. Her jaw dropped. “You-Know-Who was still at large. The Light were losing the war, and it seemed that all might be lost. So I used the device, and came back to the start of my seventh year. Ever since I’ve been working to bring down the Dark and defeat You-Know-Who. That’s why I’ve been rather different this year. My greatest regret was not regaining your friendship.” Lily’s wonderful green eyes widened and she glanced from person to person, all of them surprisingly grave.

“You’re serious,” she said.

“No that’s me,” Sirius said happily. She wacked him on the head.

“That got old in first year!” she hissed, and turned Severus. “You’re from the future.” He nodded.

"Explains a lot," Lupin mused.

“I would appreciate it if you would take an Unbreakable Vow not to share this with anyone who does not already know.” Lily and Lupin nodded. They performed the vow, with Potter as bonder.

“I’ll get another round of drinks,” Potter offered as they sat in silence. He slipped from the table after collecting everyone’s order. Lily was gazing into the distance, no doubt accumulating a collection of questions to ask him.

“So how’s your date going?” Lupin asked, amber eyes mischievous. 

“Spectacularly,” Severus muttered. “And it’s not a date.” Sirius pouted.

BOOM. The entire room shook. Severus stood, instantly transfiguring his robes into something tighter fitting and more appropriate for duelling.

“Death Eaters,” he hissed, and conjured his patronus. “Albus, attack on Hogsmede.” He flicked the silver dog away.

“Was that Padfoot?” Potter hissed. Severus glanced sideways at Sirius who was grinning, and stalked toward the door.

“Let’s go kick some Death Eating ass,” Sirius said. Lily, Lupin and Potter followed them out. Someone had cast Fiendfyre and flaming beasts licked around the edges of houses, burning through the protective wards and setting the wood alight.

“I’ve got it!” Lily cried, and raced off, Potter following. Severus flicked his wand, casting a wide ranging blasting curse that caught three black cloaked men off guard. A fourth had shielded himself, and Lucius’ blazing silver eyes turned upon him.

“Snape,” he growled. “I see you’ve taken up with blood traitors and mudbloods.”

Severus smirked. “So have you.”

Lucius narrowed his eyes. Severus conjured the words ‘I am Lord Voldemort’, and then rearranged them to spell 'Tom Marvelo Riddle'.

“Your Dark Lord is nothing but a mudblood orphan,” he sneered.

“You lie!” Lucius cried. “Expulso.” Severus caught the curse on the tip of his wand, and flung it away from him.

He snarled at Lucius, slashing his wand, silently incanting ‘Sectumpsempra’ and a gash of blood appeared on Lucius’ chest. He flicked his wand and Lucius barely dodged the ropes. He returned with a weak severing curse that Severus allowed to bounce off his shield. With a swirl of his wand debris flew toward Lucius, who banished it, and then collapsed onto the floor.

“Expelliarmus.” Severus pocketed Lucius’ wand and bound him tightly.

“Did you hear that?” He heard Sirius taunting Macnair. “Voldemort’s a slimy half-blood!”

“You dare!” hissed a voice that chilled Severus to the bone.

“Accio!” Severus cried, summoning Sirius out of the way of a purple crackling curse that withered everything in its path, courtesy of Lord Voldemort. He cursed Macnair with element of surprise on his side, and turned to face Voldemort.

“Lord Voldemort. Or should I say... Tom?” he murmured. “Get Albus down here,” he hissed at Sirius, not taking his eyes away from the blood red ones that haunted his nightmares.

“Who are you?” Voldemort asked, intrigue in his eyes even as he raised his wand.

“Severus Prince,” Severus said, and blasted Voldemort with his strongest curse. Voldemort conjured a shield, but staggered with the unexpected extra power Severus had brought back in time with him.

“So young, so powerful,” he murmured. “We are alike, you and I.” Severus resisted rolling his eyes, but only just.

“Shove your recruitment speech up your arse,” he growled, something he’d wanted to say for years but never before had had the chance. Fury flickered across Voldemort’s face

BANG. Severus barely shielded from the percussion blast.

“Keep them off my back!” he cried, and stepped forward to duel with the most powerful man in Britain. This Voldemort was young, arrogant and clever, but not as crafty or cautious as he had been after his fall. Severus had more years of experience in warfare, and was conscientious of his own abilities, while Voldemort had an extensive spell repertoire and the power to back it up.

With a flick of his wand dust flew into the air, and there was nothing to see but the occasional flash of spell light. He transfigured pieces of wood into scorpions and sent them scurrying away from him. He then stood very still, watching the movement of the dust. There was a hiss, and a muttered “Evanesco”, the scorpions he presumed. He aimed his wand at the faint whirl of movement that had caught his eye.

“Ossis fractum,” he whispered and the sickly yellow bone breaking curse streaked away. There was a growl of pain and Severus threw himself to the side, disillusioning himself as the building behind where he had been standing was washed with the green light of the killing curse. An unnatural wind raced through Hogsmede and the dust cleared. Severus didn’t move. Voldemort would see through the disillusionment the moment he did. The man himself had switched his wand to his left hand, and was murmuring a healing spell. Severus felt a vicious surge of satisfaction that he’d managed to injure the bastard.

“Praemium!” he cried. Voldemort span, his shield weathering the explosion, and grimaced at the backlash. Severus advanced forward, wordless curses tearing from his wand, pressing his advantage.  Voldemort growled, and Severus twisted and turned to avoid the returning salvo, not pausing once.

“Crucio!” Voldemort hissed. It hit Severus point blank but his momentum carried the movement forward and his fist smashed into Voldemort’s face, breaking his nose and his hold on the curse, the pain flaring but fading away. Severus rolled to the floor, shielding as he moved, Voldemort's following spells sizzling out behind him. He lashed out blindly as he got to his feet, turning to see Voldemort vanishing the steel wire he’d conjured. Voldemort roared his anger and a thousand splinters became glass needles that shattered themselves against his shield, all but exhausting his magical core. He panted, working up the energy to return fire, and focused on the person who he could vaguely see over Voldemort’s shoulder.

“Solvo!” he growled, using up the last of his energy. The curse fractured against Voldemort’s shield, but it was enough. He smirked. “You lose.” Voldemort looked momentarily confused, then a barrage of transfigured creatures swarmed him. Voldemort span to face a vibrant Albus, who was already flicking his wand in the movements to bind Voldemort in place.

“This isn’t over,” Voldemort spat, then disappeared with a crack. Severus sagged to his knees the moment he was gone. He could feel basic diagnostic spells running over him, and he relaxed in the wash of Albus’ magic.

“Most impressive, my boy,” Albus told him cheerfully.

“Severus!” Sirius cried, moving closer.

“That was brilliant!” Potter declared. Lily was grinning, and even Lupin looked impressed. But he wasn't interested in their praise.

“Fool!” Severus shouted, stumbling to his feet. He grasped Sirius by the shoulders. “Never drop your guard! And stop wasting time taunting your enemies!” He shook the other man, then surged forward, catching both himself and Sirius by surprise as he pressed his lips to Sirius’. Sirius kissed back, moaning into his mouth, hands coming round to clutch at his waist.

A piercing wolf whistle disrupted them, and Severus drew away to glare at Potter, who smirked back. Severus huffed, and pulled Sirius to him, and they disapparated with a crack.


	8. Sex, Spies and Bloody Battles

“Morning,” Sirius mumbled into his chest as Severus blinked awake.

“Hmm,” Severus replied. Every bone, every muscle in his body ached. Most were remnants of his duel with Voldemort, but some were of a more pleasant origin.

There was a harsh knock at his door, and Severus groaned in irritation. He grabbed an over robe as he stalked through his living room to the entrance of his quarters.

“What?” he hissed, yanking the door open.

“I’ll do it,” Regulus declared. It looked like he hadn’t slept at all and there was a determined glint to his eyes that had been missing yesterday.

“Reggie!” Sirius cried, and Severus winced. He really hoped Sirius wasn’t naked. Regulus’ jaw dropped in shock as he looked between them.

“Sirius?” Regulus said. “Oh...” Severus didn’t need to turn to know Sirius was grinning that obnoxious smile of his.

“Meet in the Headmaster’s Office in thirty minutes,” he muttered, and slammed the door shut.

“Insufferable prat.” He said to Sirius, but couldn’t even pretend to himself that there wasn’t a note of fondness in his voice.

“Your insufferable prat,” Sirius agreed, sliding his hands into Severus’ dressing gown and settling them on his hips. “Half an hour… there’s a lot we can do in half an hour,” he muttered, pressing his lips to Severus’ jaw, then nibbling and licking his way down Severus’ neck.

Severus moaned, grabbing a hold of Sirius’ arse and squeezing. “Why do you think I said it?” he growled, and pushed Sirius back into the bedroom. Sirius landed on the bed with a thump, and he shuffled up it, pulling off his boxers as he went. Severus took a moment to appreciate the view, shrugging off his own clothing.

“Like what you see?” Sirius asked with a wink, running a hand down the flat planes of his chest and settling it on the ‘v’ of his groin. Severus smirked and moved forward to settle between Sirius’ legs.

“Very much so,” he slapped Sirius’ hand away when he reached for his cock, and replaced it with his own, keeping the grip feather light.

“Sev!” Sirius whined, thrusting his hips up to grind against his palm. Severus chuckled and raised his hand. A tub of lube smacked into it and he undid the lid, covering his fingers in slick. Sirius stared down with dark eyes, his lashes fluttering when Severus slid the first finger in. Severus pumped slowly, his own arousal growing as a flush spread from Sirius’ cheeks down and down his chest. He added another finger, and crooked them, pressing up.

“Oh!” Sirius shouted, scrabbling at the bed sheets. “More!” Severus scissored his fingers and added a third, setting a steady pace, holding down Sirius’ thrusting hips with his other hand.

“You look so pretty,” Severus murmured quietly. “All spread out for me to do with as I want. You’re writhing on my fingers, so needy for this… one day I’m going to tie you down and see how many times I can make you come just from this.”

“Sev!” Sirius cried. “Oh please.” Severus slicked himself up but didn’t slow the movement.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me!” Severus withdrew his fingers carefully, and lined himself up. He pushed in slowly, hissing at the tight slick heat of Sirius all around him, not stopping until he was fully seated. Then he leaned forward and swallowed Sirius’ moan with a kiss. Sirius opened his eyes, and Severus gazed down at him, a faint smile upon his lips. Sirius smirked up at him.

“You gonna keep me waiting… old man?” Sirius asked. Severus bit down on Sirius’ lip and snapped his hips forward, aiming for Sirius’ prostate with each fast glide. He slid one hand up to Sirius’ hair and tugged lightly, holding himself up with the other.

“Old man my ass,” Severus growled. Sirius moaned, crossing his ankles behind Severus’ back and digging them into Severus’ arse. One of his hands settled on the back of Severus’ neck, the other bracing against the headboard. He panted each time Severus thrust into him, his eyes wide and unseeing. “Touch yourself,” Severus ordered, and Sirius whined as he slipped a hand between them and pulled on his cock.

“Close,” Sirius grunted. Severus entwined his fingers tighter into Sirius’ soft hair, then gave it a sharp tug. “Sev!” Sirius moaned as he came. Severus thrust twice more then followed with a blissful groan, the tight muscles contracting around him pulling him over the edge. He managed to avoid collapsing on Sirius, but only just, falling onto the sheets beside him.

They lay in silence for a couple of minutes.

“I think I’ll have to remind you of your age more often,” Sirius finally said. Severus rolled over and hit him in the face with a pillow.

“I’m having first shower,” Severus informed him, and then scrambled into the bathroom before Sirius could beat him there.

“Unfair!” Sirius cried as he locked the door behind him. Severus grinned, and turned the shower on.

* * *

 

Surprisingly, they made it to Albus’ office on time, although Albus had a knowing twinkle in his eye as they walked in together, and Regulus flushed bright red.

The meeting with Albus and Regulus took some time, but Severus felt that they’d covered all the main details about Regulus’ absence and his uses as a spy. Sirius and Regulus would also be working toward a counter for the Dark Mark, using the Fidelius hidden Prince Manor as a base. They left soon after to get started.

“Merry Christmas!” Albus called as the brothers left, and Severus frowned.

“Already?” Albus offered him a lemon drop, which he declined with a glare.

“Tomorrow.” Albus confirmed. Severus huffed. He’d barely noticed the time of year. Should Severus’ have bought Sirius a present? He scoffed at himself. He was getting soft, thinking of others and such nonsense.

“Pettigrew,” Severus said to take his mind away from holiday celebrations. “He’s at a holding cell in the Manor. So far Voldemort has not called upon him.”

“Any luck turning him back?” Albus said with a sigh.

“He claims that the only reason he continued to work for Voldemort was at the threat to his mother’s life. I’ve worded a vow that will prevent him from betraying us, and will go there tonight to take it from him, and release him,” Severus replied. He grimaced at the thought of having to interact with the snivelling rat.

“Is that necessary?” Severus turned on him with a snarl.

“Necessary? Necessary! Pettigrew may not have joined Voldemort by choice, but by the end he was just as bad as any Death Eater. He had the choice of coming to us for help, but he was too cowardly to do anything other than follow his new master. The loathsome rat betrayed his cause and his friends and I will not permit for that to happen again!” By the end of his tirade Severus realised he had been shouting. He took a deep breath before spinning to face Albus’ pained expression.

“I’m sorry, my boy, for that which you had lost,” Albus said quietly. “But he is not the same man you knew before, just as you are not.”

“No. He is not. But the potential is there, and I refuse to allow it to be fulfilled.”

Albus nodded. “Very well. But remember this; from hate, comes darkness, and from darkness, evil.”

Severus pursed his lips. “I take my leave,” Severus said, and swept out of the office. There was lots to do, and little time.

* * *

 

Christmas passed with a brief exchange of presents; socks for Albus once again, Wolfsbane for Lupin, chocolate for Potter, a book on how Charms and Potions interacted for Lily and a leather jacket for Sirius, who’d begun modifying a muggle bike, much to Severus’ displeasure. As if they weren't in enough danger already. They celebrated New Year with a meal, and some fantastic sex, but the atmosphere was subdued.

There was a constant mist that winter, temperatures hovering around freezing even as late as March. The Dementors were breeding, and the Order focused on teaching the Patronus Charm to everyone willing to learn. There were rumours of giants moving in Western Europe and even muggles began to learn to fear the full moon. As much as they tried to attribute it to wild animal attacks, the wizards knew that Fenrir Greyback was running wild with his pack of werewolves, given free reign by Voldemort. People disappeared from their beds at night, never to be see again, and for every traitor Severus uncovered in the Ministry, two more went undiscovered. It was beyond frustrating.

“Dementors are attacking Stratford upon Avon!” Regulus cried, before collapsing to the floor in the entrance hall. Severus stood from the meeting table, summoning a pepper up and feeding it to the barely conscious man. “I have to go back,” Regulus muttered, and before Severus could stop him he disapparated with a crack.

“Fuck!” Severus tapped his charmed galleon with his wand three times, sending out the emergency signal. Immediately members of the Order began apparating into the hall.

“Those that can cast a patronus, stand with Potter!” he yelled, then turned to the man.

“Potter, pair everyone up. There’s dementors attacking a muggle town.” Potter nodded, entirely serious for once.

“Those that cannot cast a patronus, start helping Madam Pomfrey set up an infirmary, and prepare to receive injured.” Madam Pomfrey nodded at him.

“I’ll send on any stragglers,” she informed him. Severus stood on a chair, facing the group that would be fighting.

“There will be both dementors, and Death Eaters waiting for our arrival. Remember your training. Stay with your partner. Do not get kissed. Good luck.” He conjured the apparition coordinates so that they glowed in the air. “This is our destination. Now go!”

Rapidly the group began departing in pairs. Severus grasped Sirius by the arm.

“3, 2, 1.” CRACK. They appeared in what would have been a quaint town centre, if it hadn't been entirely overrun by Voldemort’s army. Thatched cottages were catching fire even as dementors feasted upon terrified muggles.

“Expecto patronum,” Severus hissed, and ‘Padfoot’ bounded away to join the host of animals attempting to drive off the dementors. Sirius’ panther stalked past them, hot on Padfoot’s heels.

“Naughty, naughty, Severus Snape,” called a singsong voice. Severus span, coming face to face with Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Looking even sluttier than usual, dear Bella,” he sneered, gesturing to the corset half ripped open. “But I suppose you are Voldemort’s whore.”

“You dare!” she screeched, and black fire poured from her wand, eating up the ground between them. Dark creatures formed from it, baying for his blood. Conjured water didn’t quench it, so he summoned a lick of fiendfyre. Enormous snakes reared from the flames, and lunged forward, clashing with the cursed fire. They battled for dominance, and sweat dripped from his brow as the pillar of flames grew higher and higher. With a roar black flames were devoured. He turned the fiendfyre on itself, winking it out in seconds.

“Depulso,” he hissed, but Bellatrix was already moving.

“Missed me!” she sang. She flicked her wand in a movement he didn’t recognise, and then he fell to his with a scream. He saw Lily, lying dead on the floor in Harry's nursery, murdered by Voldemort. He saw Sirius falling back through the veil, murdered by Bellatrix. He saw Albus, acceptance in his eyes as Severus murdered him.

Bellatrix’s mad cackle brought him back to the present. With a shout, he threw off the remains of the nightmare curse, but she was already skipping away.

“Pretty little Lily Evans… I’M COMING FOR YOU!” she cried. Sirius helped him off the ground.

“Let’s go kill that mad bitch!” he snarled. Severus nodded in reply, and they took off after her.

Lily was on the ground, screaming under Bellatrix’s knife. Potter was battling three dementors with a fading patronus as he watched Lily being tortured. Severus didn't think he'd ever heard a more horrific sound in his lfie.

“Help Potter!” Severus cried. With a flick of his wand Bellatrix tumbled through the air, crashing into the wall of a building. Lily was motionless on the dirt. He threw himself to the side to avoid a bolt of green spell fire as Bellatrix cast to kill.

“Ossis fractum,” he growled, but a glimmer of silver told him Bellatrix had shielded against it. He snapped his wand through the air, a whip of barbed wire extending from it, curling around her ankle. She shrieked with laughter as he pulled her toward him.

“Ickle Snapey’s grown fangs!” she cried. She blew him back with a silent curse, and he tumbled to the ground.

“Mordsmorde!” she screamed, and the Dark Mark exploded from her wand. With a crack, she disappeared.

“Fuck.” He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pounding in his head. The dementors were gone, chased away, and the rest of the Death Eaters had retreated. He rushed over to Lily. She was cradled in Potter’s arms, barely conscious, and their portkeys activated moments later. Sirius was leaning against a wall, blood dripping from one brow, a wild grin on his face.

“We did it! We beat them back,” Severus nodded, then promptly collapsed.


	9. The Calm Before The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Peloux for beta-ing.

“You’re an idiot,” a voice informed him.

“Fuck off,” Severus replied, wincing as he opened his eyes. He was in the infirmary in Prince manor, which didn’t bode well.

“Your heart stopped,” the voice that Severus had identified as Sirius continued.

“Well it seems to be in fine working order now,” Severus muttered, although he had to admit that his chest was sore.

“That is not the point. I’m trying to be serious!”

Severus smiled. “You’re always Sirius,” he said, and closed his eyes again, allowing consciousness to fade away once more.

* * *

 

“Alright laddie, time to wake up, can’t stay in bed all day.”

Severus groaned. He opened his eyes and immediately recoiled from Moody’s ugly mug.

“That is not what anybody wants to see when they wake up,” Severus muttered.

“Hmpfh. I can give you the names of several women  who’d disagree.”

“Stop,” Severus said. “Just stop.” There was a chuckle. Severus opened his eyes for good, and pulled himself upright. He was still in the infirmary, unfortunately.

“Lily!” he gasped, jumping out of bed. Moody handed him his wand, and clasped his shoulder.

“She’s fine. Got a nasty scar to show for it, but at least she’ll remember… CONSTANT VIGILANCE.” Severus barely stopped himself from jumping. With a snap of his fingers he summoned a house elf.

“A set of clean robes,” he asked of it. Moments later he was dressed in his black robes, feeling much more like himself.

“How long have I been out?” Severus asked Moody.

“Three days.”

Bloody fucking hell.

He swept out the room, and into the dining room. Sirius was asleep on an armchair in the corner, and Albus was doing paperwork at the table.

“Severus! Wonderful to see you up and about,” Albus said, placing down his quill and beaming widely.

“Any casualties?” he snapped. Albus sighed.

“Ten muggles, two Death Eaters, but no one from the Order, thanks to your excellent portkeys and Madam Pomfrey’s wonderful help. The muggles are blaming it on a house fire.” Severus nodded. He walked over to Sirius and nudged his foot. Sirius blinked bleary eyes, then jumped to his feet.

“You bastard!” he cried, wrapping Severus in his arms. Severus cautiously returned the hug. “You’ve scared ten years off my life.” He pulled back only to kiss Severus, who stepped back after a moment.

“Are you alright?” Severus asked. Sirius scoffed.

“ME? I’m not the one who keeled over half dead.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “I’m still alive, aren’t?” he said, dismissing the subject. Sirius huffed but allowed him to drop it.

“YES!” A loud cry had heads snapping toward the staircase. Severus clasped his wand.

“Prongs?” Sirius called. “You alright, mate?”

James Potter came bounding down the stairs.

“She said yes!” he hollered, and swept Sirius into a hug. Severus stowed his wand away and stalked up the stairs in search of Lily.

“Really?” he asked dryly when he found her propped up in a bed, a dopy smile upon her face and a healthy flush to her cheeks.

“Really,” she replied, arching an eyebrow as if daring him to say something.

“I suppose congratulations are in order then,” Severus said. Lily beamed.

“I’m thinking a June wedding! Merlin, so much planning to do. I hope Alice will be my maid of honour. Oh! What are my parents going to think? They’ve only met James once before.”

Severus bit back a laugh. “Calm down Lily. Take a breath.”

She grinned sheepishly at him then patted under her pillow until she came up with her wand. With a flick of her wrist she summoned a pen and paper. Immediately she began scribbling away. Severus just sat there and watched, happy to see her so full of vitality. A few minutes he stood and she looked up in surprise.

“You’re still here?”

Severus shook his head. “I’m off now. I’ll see you later, okay? And congratulations. Honestly, I’m so happy for you.”

Lily’s face softened as she smiled. “Thanks Sev, you’re the best.”

When Severus walked into the lounge, Potter, Sirius and Longbottom were crowded around one table.

“Strippers, coming out of a cake! A bottle of firewhiskey each. And edible underwear!” Sirius declared as he walked in. Severus froze, and walked straight back out, hoping that none of them had seen him. Fuck that. There was no way he was getting involved with Potter’s bachelor party. Instead, he went to find Albus.

“You’ve got a backlog of reports,” Albus remarked cheerily as he entered. Severus groaned but accepted the files. He skimmed through them, noting they all said the same thing; the Death Eaters were laying low and licking their wounds. Regulus’ file remarked that Bellatrix Lestrange had been entrusted with an item of great importance at their last meeting.

Severus smiled, and sent a message off to Regulus. He’d worried about the man. Moments later Regulus apparated into the Manor’s entrance, a hood covering his features. Severus nodded at him and led them to an antechamber. He locked and warded the room while Regulus took off his cloak and poured himself a drink.

“When will the next meeting be held?” Severus asked bluntly.

“Hello to you too,” Regulus muttered. Severus didn’t bother to reply. “In a fortnight, on the 24th.”

Severus paced the room. It was dimly lit and chilly, so he flicked his wand to light a fire in the hearth.

“Let’s talk about the meetings. How long to they last? Does everyone attend all of them? Who’s the first to arrive, the last to leave?

Although he had his own memories, enough of the past had changed that it was important not to depend upon it.

“Urm,” Regulus said. “I’m not entirely sure. Bellatrix and Abraxus are always there before I arrive, if that helps.”

Severus nodded. “Okay, start making notes of those sorts of details. Do they ever end early, for one reason or another?”

“The Dark Lord will end it early if he receives news that he needs to deal with immediately,” Regulus said.

Both those details correlated with what Severus knew to be true.

“Alright. Report back after the 24th,” Severus said. “How’s the study of the Dark Mark coming along?”

Regulus grimaced. “Not well. We’re fairly certain he uses Parseltongue to finish the spell, and we’re not sure it can be undone without it.”

Severus laced his fingers together as he thought. Last time the only other Parselmouth in England had been Harry Potter, and Albus theorised that the ability had been transferred to him via Voldemort. But there had been whispers of Parselmouths in India and Australia, where an ability to communicate with dangerous creatures would be considered useful.

“I’ll see if I can find a Parselmouth who would be willing to work with you,” Severus said.

“Thanks.”

* * *

 

Three days later an invitation arrived for him via owl post. Severus set aside his breakfast to read it.

_Kindly join us at the wedding of Lily Evans, and James Potter._

_Saturday 8 th June 1979_

_Potter Manor, Kent_

On the other side of the table, Sirius was gleefully reading his own invitation.

“Keep the weekend before that free,” Sirius said. Severus winced.

“Must I?”

“Yes! It’s Prongs’ final hurrah. We’ve got so many plans…” Sirius looked dreamily into the distance.

“I can’t wait,” Severus muttered.

He was writing his own correspondence to other potions masters in countries where Parseltongue was not so reviled. He’d have to take it to the ministry to get sent off abroad, but hopefully it would be worth it.

That done he left for his laboratory. Severus was mass producing Wolfsbane. He had several large cauldrons on the go in preparation for the next full moon; it was eight days away.

Severus stirred the last of the fairy wings into the cauldron, and faint wisps of blue smoke emitted from it. He grinned, and used his galleon to summon Lupin.

He made his way to the entrance, where Sirius and Lupin were chatting about Lily and Potter’s wedding. He cleared his throat, and Lupin turned with a look of surprise.

“Prince?”

“Come along. I have a proposition for you.” Lupin followed him to the lab, Sirius trailing behind them. Lupin’s eyes lit up when they settled upon the Wolfsbane.

“As you know, I’ve been giving you a potion that keeps you sane over the full moon. We finally got enough ingredients to produce large quantities,” Severus said.

“It’s helped so much,” Lupin enthused.

“I’ve made enough for twenty doses of seven, one for each day of the week leading up to the full moon, starting tomorrow. Do you think you can find twenty werewolves that would be interested? Free of charge.”

Lupin grinned, even as Sirius’ jaw dropped.

“Ha! Easily!” Lupin said. “I’ll get right on it.”

“I’ll distribute it at the safe house in London, as we can’t risk them coming here. Midday?”

Lupin nodded eagerly. “Thank you!” He rushed out of the lab.

Sirius’ eyes were shining, and he drew Severus forward for a kiss.

“You’re the best, you know that?”

Severus shoved him away but smirked at him.

“Obviously.”

 “You, Severus Prince, are brilliant.” Severus allowed Sirius to kiss him again. “In fact, I think you deserve a reward,” Sirius declared, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“How could I refuse?” Severus asked as Sirius drew him up the stairs.

* * *

 

The Wolfsbane worked, of course. That full moon there were half as many attacks, and the following month it was in high demand. Severus produced as much as he could get the ingredients for, and there were half as many attacks again. It was expensive, but it was working, and Severus would be able to sustain the price of the ingredients for a few years, or until the war was over, and they could appeal to the Ministry for a subsidy.

Both Regulus and Pettigrew continued to report after each meeting, and soon Severus gained a comprehensive understanding of the Death Eater meetings.

“The Dark Lord has a personal vendetta against you,” Regulus warned. Severus couldn’t say that he was surprised.

The Order were foiling Death Eater attacks with increasing frequency, although Severus did not compromise his spies. Instead they ordered patrols in public areas, Diagon Alley, Hogsmede and the like.

Encouraged by the show of defiance, the general public had also taken to fighting back, something that had never happened in the other timeline. The Ministry was also taking a strong stance against the Death Eaters. Even the rich and influential prisoners were subject to veritaserum interrogations, and people like Lucius Malfoy ended up in Azkaban.

“There’s something brewing,” Regulus said one balmy morning in early June. He, Sirius, and Sahil Bhatt, a Parselmouth who’d been interested enough in the work to come to England, were studying Regulus’ mark.

Severus sighed. Regulus was right. All the reports he was getting said the same thing; that Voldemort was being unusually inactive, and the members of the Inner Circle were behaving strangely.

“But what?” Severus wondered aloud.

There was no answer.

* * *

 

“Is this really necessary?” Severus asked for the third time in an hour. Sirius winked at him and smoothed down Severus’ dress robes.

“Yes. Do try to enjoy yourself, dear,”

Severus huffed and extended his arm. Sirius took it and apparated them both to a seedy muggle bar in London.

“Hey Prongs!” Sirius called. “It’s your stag night!” Sirius chuckled loudly to himself.

Potter grinned, his eyes already glazed over slightly from what Severus assumed was alcohol. With a wink he grew antlers in a partial animgus transformation. Severus immediately threw up a muggle repelling field.

“Put them away,” Lupin said, smacking Potter on the arm even as he laughed. Potter pouted and the antlers regressed.

“Come on guys!” Pettigrew poked his head out of the door. They all trooped in. Severus was just glad to see that it wasn’t a strip club.

Diggle, Longbottom, Arthur Weasley, the Prewett twins and Fenwick were all seated around one large table. Severus was glad to find himself next to Arthur, who’d likely be the voice of reason among these idiots, or so he hoped.

“Shots!” Sirius cried, and strode off to get drinks.

“This is very exciting!” Arthur said. “Wow, the things that muggles wear!” He was looking at a group of young women in bright, tight leggings and leg warmers.

Shots of tequila were handed around, and Severus subtly vanished his as the rest of them drank.

“Where’s the band?” Arthur asked as the music was turned up.

“There’s no band. It’s like a radio,” Severus explained.

“Really? But how do they work it without magic?”

“Well, the muggles have something called electricity that they use instead of magic. You use a plug to connect a device to the electricity.”

“A plug? I’ve got to get me a plug,” Arthur muttered.

“It was actually muggles that invented the radio. We just adapted their invention for our own use.”

Arthur looked thrilled. “How exciting!”

“Hey Sev!” A drunken Sirius hailed him.

“Yes?” Severus asked warily.

“Come settle this for us! What’s better, sex with a woman, or a man?”

Severus arched a brow. “Sirius. Surely you’re well aware that I’m gay.”

Sirius grinned. “And?”

“And I’ve not had sex with a woman, you imbecile.”

Confusion crossed Sirius’ face. “Oh.”

Severus sighed.

“It’s not really a fair comparison,” Arthur piped up. “It’s just too different. One soft, the other hard…”

He blinked and then gulped as the Prewett brothers came to sit either side of him.

“Oh dear. I probably shouldn’t have said that,” Arthur said as everyone else roared with laughter.

“You better not be messing our little sister around,” Fabian threatened, although he was fighting a grin.

“Oh no! She was there too!”

“Stop!” Gideon groaned. “Too much information.”

Arthur blushed.

“What happens in Stag Night, stays in Stag Night,” Potter proclaimed. “Now. More drinks!”

“It’s time for the next pub,” Pettigrew interjected.

“Oh yeah, we’re doing a pub crawl,” Sirius said. “Everyone up!”

“Do we have actually crawl between the pubs?” Arthur looked delighted by the idea of it.

“Only if you’re so drunk you can’t stand!” Sirius replied cheerily, slapping Arthur on the back.

Longbottom looked relieved, and Severus snorted a laugh.

The next pub they went to was a dingy place with several pool tables. Severus sipped his ale while he watched Sirius lose good naturedly to every single person there. He looked rather fetching bent over the table. Occasionally, if his back was to Severus, he’d give his arse a wiggle. Severus knew he was doing it on purpose.

“Tease,” Severus muttered as Sirius lost yet another game. He leaned over Sirius, correcting his grip. “Try that.” When Sirius ground back against him he stepped back.

“Cruel!” Sirius cried, but his pool playing did improve.

The night turned out to be far tamer than Severus could have guessed, although he did end up almost carrying Sirius into bed. There had been no strippers, and only Potter had ended the night vomiting the alcohol back up. Lily had fixed him with such a glare when Severus had delivered him to her door that he thought Potter might end up regretting the night for a while.

He grabbed a hangover potion and placed it on the bedside table for Sirius, and went to get them both a glass of water.

Albus was in the kitchen, a mug of tea in his hand and parchment in the other.

“Ah, Severus. How are the bachelors?”

“Alive,” he retorted. Albus peered over the top of his glasses, amusement evident in his eyes.

“I’m surprised to see you back so early.”

Severus glanced at the clock. It was a little past 4am.

“Early,” he repeated. “Yes, well, we decided to get an early night.”

Albus’ eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Sleep well, my boy.”

Severus rolled his eyes and went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isn't this exciting! A whole new chapter after so many months of silence! Hopefully I'll be able to get back on the posting wagon, and should be updating soon.


	10. The Day of The Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind thanks to Peloux for beta-ing!

The day of Lily and James’ wedding was sunny and clear, not a cloud in the sky. Severus and Sirius were staying in Severus’ London flat, which was close enough to Potter Manor that they could apparate.

“I can’t believe they’re getting married,” Sirius sniffed, wiping a tear with Severus’ handkerchief. “My Prongs! All grown up! And Lily-flower actually said yes!”

Severus finished putting on his dress robes and checked that Sirius was suitably dressed. He replaced the handkerchief Sirius was using with another and ushered him out of the door.

“We’ll be late if you don’t hurry up. Have you got the rings?”

“Shit!” Sirius swore, and raced back into the flat. Severus smirked.

Sirius almost tumbled back down the stairs, ring box in hand, and Severus caught him at the bottom.

“Got them!” Sirius proclaimed, then pecked him on the cheek in thanks.

Severus took out his invitation and tapped it with his wand. The apparition coordinates appeared on the back. With a crack they both arrived in the hall of Potter Manor.

It was less of a manor, and more a castle, Severus thought as he eyed the glowing candlelit chandeliers and sprawling tapestries.

“Welcome!” a house elf squeaked. “Just this way, sirs.” Their invitations floated from their hands and into the house elf’s spindly fingers.

They followed the corridor, decorated with flowers and lit by morning sunshine, until they arrived in a large hall. It was decorated similarly, with white and gold drapes hanging from the ceiling, and the air almost seemed to glitter. Severus took his seat in the second row on Lily’s side, while Sirius made a bee-line for James.

The hall slowly filled up, many of their year mates taking seats, and some of Lily’s muggle cousins. Minerva, Flitwick and Slughorn entered together.

“Hello Minerva,” Severus greeted her as she seated herself next to him.

“Good morning Severus. I can hardly believe this is happening.”

“They’re a well suited couple,” Severus allowed.

“So young,” Minerva said wistfully.

Soon the hall was full, and a hush fell over the room as the Bridal party made themselves scarce, and Mr and Mrs Potter took their seats. A light and delicate tune began to play from an enchanted organ, vaguely reminiscent of the muggle wedding march.

Mrs Evans walked down the aisle, in a lovely navy dress, and took her seat. She was followed by Remus Lupin and Frank Longbottom, the groomsmen, smartly dressed in black to match the groom. After that came Sirius, looking very handsome, one hand hovering over the pocket that the rings were in; James followed, beaming widely, looking like the cat that got the cream, then Albus, as he would be the officiant. As a Chief Mugwump he was legally eligible to perform marriages. He was grinning, eyes twinkling and his sapphire robes, with silver moons and stars on, shimmered. The bridesmaids; Marlene McKinnon, Emmeline Vance and Mary McDonald, walked down the aisle in sky blue dress robes, with Alice Longbottom, the maid of honour, following them.

Finally, Lily walked down the aisle, her father escorting her. She was dressed in traditional white, her dress tucked in at the waist, with a lace train flowing behind her.

James’ jaw dropped, and Severus would swear that his eyes glistened with tears. One could not doubt that it was true love. Mr Evans drew Lily’s veil back, and kissed her on the cheek, before giving her hand to James.

“Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today…” Albus began. Severus smirked as James and Lily gazed at each other, lost in each other’s eyes. He glanced at Sirius, who was smiling at him, and smiled back.

“And now the vows,” Albus said. “I believe you’ve both written your own?”

James nodded, and cleared his throat. He clasped Lily’s hand in his own.

“The first time I saw you we were on the Hogwarts Express, going to school for the first time. The sun shone off your hair, and it looked as if a halo of fire surrounded your head. You were telling Sirius off for teasing Peter, and that was the moment I knew I was going to marry you.

“You rebuffed me at every turn, laughed in my face, burnt up my love letters, and scoffed at my poems, but I was not deterred. For years I would spend my evening plotting up new ways to make you fall in love with me too. My friends told me to give it up, that I was wasting my time. They said it would never happen, there were plenty more fish in the sea. But I didn’t want any other of those fish, because they weren’t you. Then, one brilliant amazing day in seventh year, I asked you on a date, and you said yes. Until today, that was the best day of my life.

“I love you Lily, I always have, and I always will, whether you’re so angry your cheeks turns the same colour as your hair, or so ill they turn the colour of snow. You’re my firebrand, and I would rather get burnt than let you go.”

Lily beamed, and she wiped a single tear away. Severus couldn’t help but feel emotional himself.

“When I first met you I thought you were an insufferable toerag. I still think that you are. But you’re my insufferable toerag, and so much more, and I would never give that up. When I think of you, I think of someone who is brave enough to stand between me and a dementor, someone who is kind enough to hold me when I cry, and someone who is funny enough to make me laugh no matter how sad I may be.

“I read every single poem and letter that you gave me, even if I did burn them. I’ve kept a single flower from every bouquet I received, pressed between the pages of my diary. I admire your strength and perseverance, and I’m so glad that you never gave up. There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not happy I finally said yes, as my life has only improved ever since. I love you, even when you’re being a toerag, even when you puke all over my new shoes, and I especially love you today, the day that we are bound together for better or for worse.”

“I love you too,” James mouthed at her.

“The rings?” Albus said. Sirius fumbled them from his pocket, tears streaming down his face.

“I, Lily Anne Evans, take you, James Charlus Potter, to be my lawfully and magically wedded husband.”

“I, James Charlus Potter, take you, Lily Anne Evans, to be my lawfully and magically wedded husband.”

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,” Albus declared.

James swept Lily into a kiss, and she giggled and threw her arms around him. He pulled her off her feet and spun her around, as cheers erupted about the church. They broke apart and Lily beamed, before taking James’ hand, and they ran out of the hall as everyone threw confetti, stars and flowers and hearts that glittered and shimmered as they were enchanted to dance around the room.

The reception was held outside in the sunshine, with several marques erected on the manor grounds. Smartly dressed house elves walked around holding platters of nibbles and drinks, while a Jazz band played before an empty dance floor.

Severus made his way over to Sirius after accepting a glass of champagne.

“That was beautiful!” Sirius proclaimed. Severus nodded his agreement.

“Shall we join the queue?” They walked over to the group of people waiting to congratulate the newlyweds.

“That was a wonderful service,” Severus said.

“I’m so happy for you!” Sirius cried, before wrapping his arms around both Lily and James. Lily carefully pried him off them a few moments later.

“Thank you,” she said, beaming. James watched her with a sappy smile on his face.

“My Lilyflower,” he said dreamily.

“We’ll see you later,” Severus said, tugging Sirius away. “Let’s not monopolise them.”

“I just love weddings,” Sirius announced, plopping into one of the seats available and pulling Severus into the one next to him. “They’re so romantic.”

Severus bit back his personal feelings on weddings and allowed Sirius to wax rhapsodic.

“Everyone’s so happy and in love, and it’s the best day of the bride and grooms’ lives, and there’s always cake and ample booze, and at the end of the night we’ll get to dance… we should get married!”

“Mmm,” Severus said. “Wait. What?”

Sirius turned to him with bright, eager eyes. “Let’s get married!”

Severus jumped to his feet. “What! No!”

Shock and hurt crossed Sirius’ face before fading into resignation.

“Is this about the age thing again?” he asked quietly. “Because I thought we’d got past that!”

Severus stared at him, jaw dropped. Faintly, in the back of his mind, the Prince Manor wards alerted him to someone apparating into the house--but  everyone in the Order was attending Lily’s wedding.

Everyone but Regulus.

Moments later Severus’ galleon started vibrating.

“Severus!” Sirius snapped. “Are you listening to me?”

He looked at Sirius in horror. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

He turned around and walked rapidly away, heading toward the apparition point, disappearing with a crack.

Regulus was pacing Prince Manor’s entrance hall.

“Severus! There you are! Where is everyone?”

“At Lily’s wedding,” Severus growled. “What? What is it?”

Regulus paled, and he clutched his left arm. “We’re attacking Azkaban. Right now!”

Severus froze. He didn’t remember anything like that happening in the original timeline, but he’d messed around enough that he could no longer rely on his memories. There were far more of Voldemort’s supporters imprisoned there this time around, and the dementors had already defected.

“Fuck!” he swore, and then again even louder, “FUCK!”

“I have to go,” Regulus pleaded. Severus shook himself.

“Yes, go, go.”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. He had a decision to make. Ruin Lily’s party, possibly expose Regulus as a spy, and attempt to save the Aurors protecting Azkaban.

Or do nothing. Preserve Regulus’ position as a spy, allow the prisoners to escape, and condemn the Aurors to death.

“Fuck!” Severus cried again, and picked up a vase to smash it against the wall.

There was a loud crack moments after the vase shattered, and Sirius arrived.

“What the hell, Sev!” he cried. He then glanced about, noting the shattered vase, and Severus’ demeanour. “What’s going on?” he asked in a softer voice.

“Death Eaters are attacking Azkaban.”

Sirius paled. “What! That’s madness!”

Severus shook his head. “The dementors have already sided with them, remember?”

“We have to go and help,” Sirius declared. “I’ll get the others, you send an alert through over the galleons.”

“No,” Severus said. “Fuck, no, we can’t do it, we’ll compromise your brother’s position as a spy.”

Sirius’ face scrunched up and then crumpled in pain. “What can we do then?”

Severus paced, the vague beginnings of a plan forming in his mind.

“We’ll tell some of the others. Our best duellers, withdraw them from the wedding, subtly. Get everyone kitted up and ready to go, and send Fenwick to the Ministry. The moment the Ministry is alerted Fenwick will let us know, and we’ll go then.”

They apparated back to the wedding and immediately Albus noticed their entrance. He ambled over and Severus grimaced at him.

“Can you collect Fenwick, Moody, Flitwick and Molly? Leave quietly, and meet back at the manor as soon as possible.”

“What’s going on?” Albus asked.

“They’re attacking Azkaban.”

The twinkle in Albus’ eye faded. “Very well.”

The Longbottoms, Lupin, the Prewett twins, Bones and McKinnon joined those Albus collected. They were milling about in the dining room, exchanging whispers as Severus walked in. He’d already sent Fenwick off to the Ministry.

“What’s going on?” Gideon demanded.

“You’re all here because you’re the best duellers the Order has to hand, and we’re about to be in for a fight,” Severus said bluntly. Albus coughed and stepped forward.

“Death Eaters are attacking Azkaban, in the hope of freeing the prisoners. We’re going to join the Aurors in keeping them contained, and perhaps even capture a few more. Everyone must be prepared. It is likely Voldemort and his Inner Circle will be there, and we’ll be up against the dementors too.”

A shocked silence fell over the room before they all surged forward.

“Let’s go!” McKinnon said, and with a flick of her wand transfigured her dress into duelling robes, and her cry was joined by many others.

“We can’t. We have to wait for the Ministry to be alerted, or our spy will be compromised, and his life lost,” Severus said.

“Our spy?” Moody said doubtfully. “What kind of spy?”

Severus didn’t bother answering that.

“Is it a Death Eater?” Bones said. “What if it’s a trap?”

“It’s not,” Severus snapped. “The best we can do is get ready for a fight.”

There was quiet grumbling, but everyone began either finding more suitable clothing or transfiguring what they wore. Several collected knives or spare wands, and they stocked up on potions.

A few minutes later Fenwick’s eagle flew into the room. “The Aurors are leaving,” it announced.

“Let’s go!” Severus shouted, and with a crack he apparated to Azkaban.

* * *

 

It was raining when they arrived, torrential rain with black clouds so dark that it was almost impossible to see. Immediately Severus cast his patronus, Padfoot bounding forward as it lead the way. The red-robed Aurors they’d arrived beside eyed them with surprise, but Head Auror Odgen just huffed a laugh.

“Come on then,” he bellowed. “Follow the Auror in front of you.”

Azkaban was already split open, and prisoners were streaming out of the cracks in the wall. Voldemort was clearly visible, cackling wildly as he began casting a spell. Massive swathes of water leapt up from the sea and bore down upon them. Albus vanished the water, and the air collapsed around them with a boom that was louder than thunder, seeking to fill the space the water had been.

Albus stalked forward wand aloft, and engaged Voldemort, a spectacular light show flying between them. Severus looked away and ran toward the furious battle.

With a flick of his wand he cursed Avery, who dodged and grinned wildly and cursed Severus in return.

“You’re pathetic, Prince!” Severus deflected an entrails expelling curse and countered with a bone breaker. “Your mother would be ashamed!”

“Doubtful,” Severus murmured, vaguely amused by the insinuation. He wove his wand in a figure of eight, conjuring a whip of fire and sent it lashing toward Avery.

Avery cackled and conjured a spear that caught the flames and yanked them toward him. Severus stumbled but released the spell and cast flurry of disarming and binding charms to distract Avery. Sirius’ bodybind slammed into him from the side and Avery tumbled to the ground.

“Take that, scumbag!” Sirius cried, racing on past. Severus took a moment to create a portkey that would take Avery to the cells of Prince Manor, before following at a rapid pace.

“Where the fuck are they getting their wands from?” Severus hissed as he disarmed a raggedy prisoner and blasted him into a wall. He took a moment to appraise the battle field. Death Eaters spewed from the walls of the fortress already armed.

He sprinted for the shadowed walls of Azkaban and then shifted, moments later leaping onto the battlements as a small black cat. He raced along the halls, following the vibrations in the stone, weaving in between the feet of prisoners too eager to escape to care about an animal.

He stopped just short of a corner and peered round it. Mulciber and the Lestranges were arming the escaped wizards with a pile of wands.

Severus transformed and cast the strongest incendiary spell he knew. Flames licked up the sides of the walls as the pile of wands exploded, throwing them all to the floor. Severus’ head cracked against the cold stone, and then he knew no more.


	11. Ensnared

Severus moaned as he awoke, his very bones aching, and he felt as if his skull had been split open. Even the candlelight seemed bright to his sensitive eyes. He tried to push himself up, but a cold, pale foot landed on his shoulder and shoved him back down. The brief glimpse of the Dark Lord’s throne room was enough to tell him where he was.

“So,” the Dark Lord rasped.

“My Lord,” Severus said, fumbling into a bow.

The Dark Lord snarled and Severus winced, taking the time to put his mind in order, scrambling to figure out what had happened. Had he been at a Death Eater meeting? They’d raided Azkaban? Had his cover been blown?

“Severus Prince, we meet again,” Voldemort hissed, and his memories slotted into place. Severus couldn’t hold back a groan as one thought struck him above all others. Sirius. He would be frantic with worry. Severus had to return to him.

“You have been a thorn in my side…  But no more. Crucio!”

Burning agony surged through his body and Severus clenched his teeth to stop himself from screaming. He panted, trying to think around the nauseating pain, and forced himself to retreat into his mind even as his body burnt itself up from the inside. He rapidly began ordering his memories, creating false leads, hiding his past and reinforcing his Occlumency barriers.

He collapsed to the floor when Voldemort relented, sucking in beautiful lungfuls of air, and then cautiously extended his sense to feel for the wards. The average prisoner would not have even known how to look for them, but Severus had spent many years as one of Voldemort’s most ‘faithful’, and thus was at an advantage.

Unfortunately, there was a ward preventing him from portkeying straight out of there, despite the heavy weight of the galleon he’d strung around his neck, but there was a gap in the wards almost within reach. Severus got on his hands and knees and surveyed the room. At the back of the hall were double doors which led to a plain and unassuming annex, the only place where portkey travel was permitted.

He just had to make it there. Once he was there, he would be able to get home. He would be able to see Sirius again. But first he had to get past the perimeter of cackling Death Eaters, and to the doors, which, while were open, were several meters away.

“Never let it be said that Lord Voldemort is not generous,” Voldemort continued. Severus turned his attention back to the creature before him. “My dear Bella… perhaps you would like a turn?”

“Yes, my Lord!” Bellatrix turned to him with a malicious gleam in her eyes. Severus hid a flinch. “Crucio!”

The pain was endless, a hot fire burning through his veins, a blaze consuming him from the inside, and when he returned to himself he found he’d bitten his tongue. He spat blood onto the floor, trying to get his shaking limbs under his control. He had to get out of there. Being in Voldemort’s close proximity was dangerous. Not even the most accomplished Occlumens could stand up to days of relentless torture. He thought of Sirius, allowed his bright light to outshine the darkness he found himself in, used him as a focal point to gather himself together and turn his focus from pain to escape.

He had to get back to Sirius.

Voldemort’s foot appeared in his vision, under his chin, forcing his gaze upwards.

“Look at me, Severus Prince… so many similarities, so little to show for it.”

Severus panted and forced himself reply, picking his words carefully to find those that would do the most damage. “Well, we both did have a muggle father,” Severus said.

“Lies!” Voldemort shrieked. “Crucio!”

Severus writhed on the floor, gasping for breath as the pain lanced through him, but he was determined not to give Voldemort the satisfaction of his screams. Waves of agony tore through his body, each one peaking higher than the last until he was blissfully released from the curse. He struggled to collect himself as Voldemort clasped his face in one hand, long nails digging into his cheeks.

Severus threw up his Occlumency barriers moments before Voldemort speared into his mind. Voldemort hammered upon them, powerful and brutal but with little finesse.

“Nice try,” Severus rasped. He led Voldemort into the labyrinth of his mind, twisting corridors and hidden traps. Dark shadows swallowed them up, and the monsters of his past lunged for him, howling and baying for blood, even as thorny vines tripped and tangled the paths. Voldemort was forced to retreat. He snarled and threw Severus to the floor and he made his aching body to tumble closer to the door.

“How brave, the great Lord Voldemort facing off against a wandless teenager,” Severus spat, his limbs starting to cooperate, and had to bite back a bitter smirk at Voldemort’s wild look of outrage.

“You wish to duel me?” Voldemort whispered. “Very well…”

Severus rose on unsteady feet. Lucius approached with his wand, eyes narrowed and resentful.

“How was your stay in Azkaban?” Severus mocked him, and snatched his wand from Lucius’ grasp before it could be snapped. Severus pushed his hair back off his face and turned to Voldemort, who was eying him with both curiously and malice.

“First, we bow,” Voldemort instructed. Severus swept his wand arm out and tucked his left under himself in an overly elaborate bow, dipping his entire body at the waist. Then he snapped upright, wand sweeping in arc, creating a fissure in the floor as the stone bricks surged free from the mortar, exploding up and out as if some enormous creature had burst from the ground. Debris sprayed the room as the entire castle shook with the force of the explosion. Severus gasped a ragged breath as he staggered, but stayed upright. Death Eaters were sprawled across the floor, only the best of them having thrown up a shield and Voldemort was hidden behind a crumbling wall of stone.

“Expulso,” Severus cried, and allowed the concussion to throw him backwards. He scrambled the last of the distance across the ward line, ignoring his bruised and battered body.

“Get him!” Voldemort roared.

Severus looked up, and forced a smirk. “Portus,” he said, and Voldemort’s screech of fury followed him through the tumultuous journey home.

Severus didn’t have the energy to even attempt to land the portkey, and he lay in Prince Manor’s entrance hall floor for several minutes before finally gaining the strength to get to his feet. He’d not been in such agony in years, not since he’d returned to the Death Eaters after Voldemort had been reborn in Potter’s fourth year. Even in his youthful body he could not shrug off the after effects of Voldemort’s cruciatus. His entire body was still shaking.

He wondered where everyone was, but a glance outside made him realise he’d been in Voldemort’s lair far longer than he’d assumed. A muttered tempus informed him that he’d been there for nearly twelve hours. The throbbing of his head reminded him of how long he must have been unconscious.

The muffled sound of an argument drew him toward the dining room, and he limped slowly down the corridor.

“We have to go after him!” Sirius shouted.

“Trust me, I know… we can’t… even know where…” Albus said, words indistinct.

“I can’t believe nobody told me!” Lily hissed, her shrill voice easier to hear.

“Lily,” Remus began.

“I don’t care that it was my wedding!” she growled.

“I cared,” Severus said, pushing open the door to be greeted by the shocked faces of his closest confidents. Sirius seemed frozen, a deer caught in the headlights. Severus met Albus’ gaze and nodded, and the other man closed his eyes in relief. He then sought out Sirius’ red rimmed eyes, and smiled faintly.

“You’re here,” Sirius breathed.

Moody scrambled to his feet. “What happened on your first Order meeting?” he snarled, shoving a wand in his face.

“We duelled. I won,” Severus said, pushing him aside to wrap Sirius in a hug as the other man barrelled into him.

“You have got to stop doing that,” Sirius said, and Severus could feel tears soaking through his robe.

“I’m okay,” Severus said quietly. “I’m safe.”

Lily stood, still clad in her wedding dress and squeezed his free arm. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

James stood anxiously behind her and grimaced. “Me too. We’re, uh, we’re gonna go now,” Severus waved them off.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, my boy,” Albus said, and passed him a set of pain relief potions that Severus was incredibly grateful for.

“I gave him nothing,” Severus assured him.

Albus beamed. “Of that, I had no doubt.”

Severus scoffed, but turned his attention back to Sirius. “Let’s go to bed.” He discreetly drank the potions as they made their way upstairs.

\--

It had been a week since Severus’s brief visit to Voldemort’s lair, and he was fully recovered, physically at least. Sirius insisted on following him about like a love-sick puppy, and Severus tolerated it because he knew exactly how it felt to have the one you love torn away from you.

“What the hell even is this?” Sirius asked, tossing something from hand to hand. Severus ignored him in favour of adding lacewing flies to his cauldron of polyjuice.

“So weird… I swear I’ve seen that symbol somewhere before,” Sirius muttered. Severus glanced up and blanched.

“Put that down!” he snapped, and Sirius promptly dropped all that was left of the Gaunt family ring onto the counter and jumped away from it.

“What is it?”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and inspected the small, black stone. “Where did you find this?” he asked.

“I was just poking through some of your boxes.” Sirius gestured to the potions ingredients that lined the walls.

“And you decided to open the curse-proof one?”

Sirius grinned sheepishly. “Is that what it is? Oops.”

“Oops,” Severus repeated blankly. “Oops, I opened the fucking curse proof box, and played around with what I found inside it.”

Sirius shrugged. “It looked harmless. And I grew up in Grimmauld Place, where I very quickly learnt what was dangerous to play with and what wasn’t.”

“What am I going to do with you?” Severus groaned.

Sirius wiggled his eyebrows in what he probably thought was a flirtatious manner.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” he said.

Severus rolled his eyes but had to bite back a smile. “Oh really,” he drawled, charmed despite himself. He placed the necessary protection charms around his cauldron and allowed Sirius to draw him out of the potions lab. “And what might those be?”

“Well, I’ve been very naughty, playing with something I shouldn’t. Perhaps you ought to punish me?”

Severus snorted. “Bedroom. Now.”

Sirius rushed up the stairs and Severus followed placidly after him. Sirius was already naked when Severus entered their chambers, wiggling enticingly around on their bed.

“This is so cliché,” Severus muttered to himself. He sat on the edge of it and patted his lap. “Across my knees.”

Sirius turned pink, and his cock twitched, but he did as Severus said. Severus fisted one hand tight into Sirius’ soft hair, and stroked the other along his spine. Sirius whined as his palm settled over Sirius’ pert arse.

“Do you want this?” Severus asked.

“Sev! Do you have to make me say it?”

Severus chuckled and shook his head. “I think ten will suffice. Count for me,” he instructed, and brought the flat of his hand down hard on the plush flesh of Sirius buttock.

“One!” Sirius cried. “Two, three, oh! Four!”

Severus caressed the reddening flesh, admiring his handprint. “What are you being spanked for?”

“Touching things I shouldn’t!” Sirius cried. “Five! Six!”

Sirius panted with each slap of flesh against flesh before arching his back. Severus could feel the warm heat of Sirius’ cock hardening against his thigh and arousal pooled in his stomach.

“Are you going to do it again?”

“No!” Sirius wiggled, pushing back into his hand, and flashed his teeth in a grin. Severus tutted disapprovingly and smacked him again.

“Seven! Eight!”

“Are you enjoying this?”

“Yes, fuck,” Sirius moaned as Severus tugged at his hair to keep him in place. “Nine, ten!”

“There we go,” Severus said, soothing his arse with a gentle massage. Sirius’ hips were twitching, rubbing himself subtly against Severus thigh. Severus summoned a tub of aloe vera cream, and used both hands to rub it into Sirius’ ruddy flesh, thoroughly enjoying himself in the process.

“Come on,” Severus said, tugging Sirius up the bed. He quickly divested himself of his own clothing, and lay down on his side so that they were facing each other. Sirius smiled at him before leaning forward for a kiss.

“That was fucking hot,” Sirius said. Severus wrapped his still slick hand around both their erections, tightening his grip and rocking forward into it.

“Oh, yeh, Sev,” Sirius murmured into his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed, and their faces were so close his eyelashes brushed Severus’ cheek.

“Beautiful,” Severus said as a pulse of arousal rushed through him. His cock throbbed and he stroked them together, hot and slippery and easy. Sirius groaned and fell apart in his hands, his spend slicking their stomachs. Severus thrust into his hand, chasing his own orgasm and came with a silent sigh. He peppered kisses on Sirius’ face, floating on the afterglow.

“I love you,” Severus said, and Sirius’ eyes snapped open. “I love you, Sirius Black.”

A joyful expression crossed Sirius’ face before he lunged forward, pinning Severus to the bed.

“You mean it?” he whispered, and Severus scoffed.

“Of course I mean it, idiot.”

Sirius beamed. “I love you too, of course.” He collapsed onto Severus, wrapping around him like a sticky, overly friendly octopus. Severus found that he didn’t actually mind it that much. He ran a hand through Sirius’ hair, petting him gently.

“My silly idiot,” he murmured, and he could feel Sirius smile into his chest.

“You love me,” Sirius said, hugging him tighter. “You’re mine now.”

“I suppose I am,” Severus said quietly as Sirius’ breathing evened and he dropped off to sleep.

He’d not allowed himself to dwell upon his stint as Voldemort’s prisoner, but he thought about it now. He’d been so determined to escape, to return home, and it had brought to light the depth of his feelings for Sirius. He’d never felt anything as strong as his desire to get back to Sirius, whole and in one piece, and he knew he would be utterly destroyed should Sirius ever become lost to him.

“I really do love you,” he said, half in awe at himself, and half in awe at this wonderful man that he had fallen for.

 


	12. The Changing of the Seasons

Regulus looked haggard the next time Severus saw him, their first meeting since the attack on Azkaban. He received weekly owls, but it was often too dangerous to report in person.

“The Dark Lord is furious,” Regulus said after taking a gulp of wine.

Severus nodded. It was to be expected. With the help of the Order the Aurors had managed to contain the attack on Azkaban, and only a few of the more high-profile prisoners had escaped, most notably Malfoy, Nott and the Lestranges.

“He’s also livid that you escaped, and has spent the last few weeks on the hunt for a spy. He’s on a rampage, utterly mad.” Regulus was curled into an armchair, hands shaking, and Severus wordlessly handed him a pain potion. Regulus swallowed it without a thought.

“I can’t go back. I can’t,” Regulus said, his voice cracking. Severus pursed his lips and turned away. “What if he finds out it’s me?”

“Regulus,” Severus said, keeping his voice steady and his expression bland. “Has he already interrogated you?”

“Why do you think I’ve got the post-cruciatus tremors?” Regulus snapped, before taking a shaking breath. “Sorry.”

“You work on your occlumency every day. It’s good; I know it’s good, because I’ve tested it. So, you’re safe, if he’s already checked you.”

“I know. I know,” Regulus said, and he wiped angrily at the single tear that trickled down his face. “It’s just, it’s just so hard.”

“It’s war,” Severus said bluntly. “This is what you signed up for.”

Regulus flinched at the cruel reminder that he’d taken the mark optionally and clutched at his arm. Severus strode forward and placed a comforting hand on Regulus’ shoulder. He softened his voice.

“I know it’s hard, and I’m not going to force you to go back. But you’re strong, Regulus, and I believe that you can do it. You’ve helped so much already, saved so many lives.”

Regulus took a calming breath, and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Severus' guilt grew with every second.

Okay," Regulus said in a determined voice, and a shaky smile. "I’m sorry, you’re right. Today was difficult, but I’m okay.” He stood, squared his shoulders and drew his hood. “I’ve got to go.”

“Stay safe,” Severus said, clasping his hands behind his back. Regulus nodded, and strode out the door.

"Fuck," Severus swore, and threw a tumbler at the wall. He stared at the shattered glass dully. With a flick of his wand the tumbler was repaired. He resisted the urge to throw it again, and apparated for Hogwarts. The gargoyle outside Albus’ office let him in without a word.

“How did you do it?” Severus said, his voice pained. Albus looked at him over his half-moon glasses, and his gaze was sympathetic.

“Because I had to, dear boy,” Albus said. With a flick of his wand he summoned a tea set, and Severus gratefully took a cup, taking the seat opposite Albus.

“I want this war to be over. I want it done with! Everything seems so pointless.”

Albus patted Severus’ hand. “You are a remarkable man, Severus. Already, you’ve made so much difference to the war effort. This is about Mr Black, is it not?”

Severus nodded wordlessly.

“Do not forget, my boy, that without your presence here, Regulus would already be dead.”

“They just seem so young,” Severus said. Albus quirked his lips into half a smile.

“And so you seem just as young to me, even with your extra years.”

Severus snorted. “True enough.”

“Have faith in yourself, and in Regulus, and in the Order. Slowly but surely we are dismantling Voldemort’s reign, his influence at the Ministry fading with each corrupted member that is arrested. I have fought in this war for nearly ten years, and never have I thought us closer to ending it. Before dawn breaks, must come the dark of the night.”

Severus sighed. He sipped the last of his tea, and offered Albus a faint smile. “I swear you put something in this. It never fails to calm me.”

“Alas! You have caught me. I have been known to drug my tea with a spoonful of unsweetened honey,” Albus joked. Severus rolled his eyes. Sometimes it felt as if Albus hadn’t changed at all in the time that he’d known him.

He caught sight of something on his desk that made him take note. It was a symbol on a book, a circle, contained by a triangle and bisected by a line.

“What’s that?” he asked. A sheepish expression crossed Albus’ face.

“Merely an inconsequential hobby of mine, I’m afraid.”

Severus fixed Albus with a gaze. “I know you well enough to know when you’re lying, at least to me.”

Chagrin crossed Albus’ face. “Often I forget how closely acquainted you must have been with your version of me,” he said wryly. “Very well.”

He drew the book near and opened it. Inside were pages of notes in Albus’ fine handwriting.

“This symbol denotes the Deathly Hallows, from the fairy tale of the Three Brothers.”

“I’m familiar with it,” Severus said.

“A wand of unbeatable power, a cloak of invisibility, and a stone that might bring back a shadow of the dead. In my youth, I was obsessed with the idea that they might exist.”

Severus clasped his hands together and inspected the symbol. “The Gaunt family ring was a peculiar horcrux. I destroyed the band holding the stone, and I am certain the soul itself was destroyed, but a black stone, with those exact markings on, survived the process with naught but a crack.”

Albus’ piercing blue eyes burned into him. “Fascinating,” he breathed. “Do you think, perhaps, that I could see it?”

Severus nodded. “I’ll bring it over when I’ve got some time to spare.”

Albus nodded, his gaze now distant, looking at something only he could see. “I would be very grateful if you would do that,” Albus said.

Severus frowned, eyeing the thick book of notes. “Of course. I’ll see myself out.”

* * *

 

By the time Severus reached Diagon Alley, the fight was already over. It had been Marlene McKinnon’s turn on patrol, and she’d been executed brutally with a cutting curse to the neck, likely one of the first to die so that she couldn’t alert the Order. The entire alley looked as if a muggle bomb had gone off, houses scorched, some still burning, rubble and dirt and debris scattered about the floor.

The sound of screams still rent the air, overlapped with desperate sobbing as wounded survivors cried for help, or grieved for their loved ones. Lily was curled up around McKinnon’s body, bloody hands curled around her neck as if to save her.

“No, no, no,” Lily cried, and Severus cautiously approached.

“Lily,” he said. “Lily, she’s gone.”

“NO SHE ISN’T!” Lily screamed. Severus dropped to the floor next to her, covering her with his cloak. “SHE CAN’T BE!”

“Shush now,” he murmured, and wrapped his arm around her. “Come on, let’s get home.”

Lily clung to McKinnon as Severus tried to pry her hands away.

“Why,” she sobbed. “Why is she dead? Why is this happening?”

Severus rocked her gently, pulling her close so she could clutch onto him. She tightened her grip around his shoulders and cried into his robe. He lifted her off the ground, light little thing that she was.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not fair. IT’S NOT FAIR!” She clawed at his back in grief. He carried her to the apparition point, concentrated, and took them home, wobbling as he landed in the halls of Prince Manor. James arrived moments later.

“I’ll take her,” he said. His eyes were wild, and his face gaunt. “Go back for Sirius. Peter’s dead.”

Severus let James take her and apparated back, striding through the blood and gore and broken buildings. In the middle of the alley was a body so mangled Severus barely recognised it for Pettigrew. He was naked, every bit of his body torn with lacerations, bar his back, where the words ‘TRAITOR’ were branded. Severus swallowed, and looked beyond it.

Remus and Sirius were clinging to each other, staring in horror at the body.

“Come on,” Severus snapped. “Time to get back. This is the Aurors’ job, not ours.”

“He’s dead,” Sirius said.

“Yes,” Severus said heavily. “And there’s nothing we can do for him now.”

Sirius tore his eyes away from Pettigrew to look dully at Severus. “Okay,” he said. He stumbled away, toward the apparition point.

“Remus?” Severus said cautiously.

Remus turned to him with burning anger in his eyes. “You did this,” he snarled. Severus schooled his face impassive.

“His choices were his own.”

“The few that he had.” Remus brushed past him to follow Sirius.

Severus stayed there for a moment longer, committing Pettigrew’s mutilated corpse to memory. As much as he’d hated the man, he’d not wish that on anyone.

Severus didn’t return immediately to Prince Manor. Instead, he apparated to Cokeworth, to the run-down house he’d grown up in. He’d not tried to sell it, not needed the money, but he knew he’d never live in it again.

In August 1979, in his previous timeline, he’d just joined the Dark Lord. To prove himself he’d tortured an unsuspecting muggle, before allowing another recruit to execute him. He’d returned to this house, and had gotten blindingly drunk, the muggle’s screams of pain echoing into his nightmares.

Pettigrew had made the same choice Severus had. He’d chosen to join the Dark Lord, even if it was out of fear for his mother. He’d betrayed them, and continued to betray them, and thus would always be a risk, even in this timeline. Severus couldn’t find it within himself to be sorry that he was dead.

He pictured the lacerations on Pettigrew’s body. Would that have been his fate, should he have been discovered as a spy? No, he had betrayed the Dark Lord far more thoroughly than that. His death would have been longer and painful. He shivered, and blamed the cold.

* * *

 

The following weeks in Prince Manor were solemn, even as the Order became busier. Patrols were now performed in pairs, with hourly check-ins required. The Death Eaters stepped up their attacks, using guerrilla tactics to strike and retreat before any help could arrive. He could only find himself grateful that Sirius did not blame him for Pettigrew’s death like Remus did. As summer passed, and autumn grew near, the Order and the Death Eaters only clashed in brief skirmishes. Voldemort had taken to targeting them personally, and Lily and James had already fought him off twice.

With each battle, they drew closer to becoming those that had thrice defied him. Severus had no clue what to do should Trelawney once again spew out her Prophecy. He was determined not to let the fate of the wizarding world rest on a child’s shoulders.

Severus sat at his desk, scanning the most recent reports. A muggleborn family had been murdered, the Dark Mark left hanging over their house, and an auror had ‘accidentally’ erased the magical signature they’d obtained from the scene of crime, thus leaving it unpunished. He pushed the parchment aside and picked another up.

“Severus!” Lily’s scream made him freeze and he dropped Regulus’ report to race to the front hall. She barrelled into him, face flushed, panting loudly and eyes wild.

“What? Are you okay? Is someone hurt?”

“Sev!” she cried. She gripped his shoulders, surprisingly strong for such a small woman. “Sev, I think I’m pregnant.”

Lily was pregnant. Of course; Harry was born at the end of July, and it was early November already.

Severus’ jaw dropped. “Congratulations,” he said in a strangled voice.

“Oh Merlin, what am I going to do!” Lily cried.

He blinked, and shook himself. “Have you told James?”

“James,” Lily said faintly. “Oh yes, James.”

“Yes, that unimportant person you call your husband might like to know.”

Lily put her wand to her neck. “JAMES!” she bellowed.

Severus winced. “Merlin, woman, are you trying to deafen me?”

James raced down the stairs, and tripped over a rug, ending up at Lily’s feet.

“My darling beautiful flower, what can I do for you?” He knelt up, taking her hands.

Sirius and Remus weren’t far behind, and even Alastor had materialised and was watching them suspiciously.

“You’re going to be a dad!” Lily said.

James paled, and his jaw dropped. He swayed, and then collapsed in a dead faint.

“Pitiful,” Severus muttered, nudging James with his foot. Sirius howled with laughter, and even Remus was chuckling.

“Hmpf, what a palaver over nothing,” Alastor muttered, but he grinned as he stomped away.

“Oh, _Rennervate_!” Lily hissed.

“Merlin, Lily, I had the weirdest dream.” James rubbed his eyes, then frowned at the wooden floor he was laying on.

“Wasn’t a dream, mate,” Sirius said.

James paled again. “You’re pregnant?” he squeaked. He jumped to his feet, and swept Lily into a hug. “You’re pregnant!”

He then froze. “You’re pregnant…”

“If you faint again…” Lily warned. It snapped James into action, and he swept her off her feet and deposited her onto the sofa.

“Do you need a mediwitch? A glass of water? Are you feeling well? Do you need something to eat?”

“James!” Lily snapped. “I’m pregnant, not infirm, and don’t you dare treat me like I am.”

Severus smirked at Sirius, and jerked his head at the door.

“You don’t want a baby, do you?” he asked as they escaped what was soon becoming an argument.

“Merlin no,” Sirius said. “Fuck knows I couldn’t ever look after a child.”

“In that, we are in agreement.”

“Although… we could always practise making one,” Sirius said with a wink.

Severus let out a put-upon sigh. “If you insist,” he said, and allowed Sirius to drag him up the stairs.


	13. The Prophecy

Severus stared at the report before him. "Sirius!" he yelled.

Moments later, Sirius shuffled in, a smirk upon his face. "I'm brilliant, I know."

Severus strode toward him and pulled him in for a kiss that quickly spun out of control, Sirius panting against him as they fought for dominance until Severus yanked at his hair.

Sirius melted against him with a sigh. "Sev," he whined.

"Sirius," Severus moaned back, and pushed him against his desk, whispering into his mouth. "You've found a way to manipulate the Dark Mark."

"I have." Sirius arched against him, and Severus bit down, claiming his lips. Sirius' hands wrapped around Severus' waist and Severus shivered, before finally pulling away. Sirius' dark locks were in wild disarray, and he pouted before trying to yank Severus back to him.

"We must test this!" Severus exclaimed. If only such a cure had been found in his own time.

"How?" Sirius demanded. "And can it wait for later?"

Severus ignored him and grinned wildly. "Let's go catch ourselves a Death Eater."

They lay in wait in an empty field in the middle of the Cornish moors; Severus, Sirius, Molly, Albus and Alice.

"Voldemort!" Severus called, triggering the taboo, before Apparating to Sirius' side. Moments later, three Death Eaters appeared with a crack.

Five stunners launched toward them, and all but one Death Eater was felled. Albus strode forward to engage the final one, who did not even have the chance to escape before Albus snatched away his wand and bound him.

"Molly, please escort these two gentlemen to the Ministry."

"My pleasure," Molly said, a fierce look in her eye, and she portkeyed away with their prisoners.

"To the Lavender Safe House, Sirius, Albus," Severus announced. "Alice – thank you for your help."

Alice grinned and Disapparated.

Severus turned to their final prisoner.

"Do you think he'll mind if I turn his hair pink?" Sirius asked with a cackle. Their prisoner's hair had already been charmed. Severus rolled his eyes. He gripped the Death Eater and Apparated them both the safe house, where Albus was already waiting. He merely arched a brow at their prisoner's appearance and led the way in.

Inside was Vivaan Patil, a brilliant wizard, and more importantly, a parselmouth. It was with his help that Sirius and Regulus had managed to understand and disassemble the Dark Mark.

"Hmm, a live specimen? How exciting," Patil said, rubbing his hands together, and nodding in greeting.

"'Lo, Viv," Sirius said, his attention held by the Death Eater in their possession. The man was subsequently stripped to his under robes and bound to a chair, his forearm exposed, the Mark a disgusting tattoo that wiggled under their gazes, a snake curled around a gaping skull. Severus fed their prisoner a few drops of the Draught of the Living Death through a pipet so they didn't have to worry about him waking up.

Patil withdrew his wand and touched it to the tail of the snake. He hissed, and Severus shivered, reminded of all the times Voldemort had spoken to his familiar around him.

The Mark began to redden, and Severus winced, aware that either Voldemort or Patil's manipulation meant that the Death Eater would feel the pain of Voldemort's call that would not relent until it was answered. The man stirred but didn't awaken.

Patil grinned. "What would you like me to do? Remove it? Duplicate it? Trace the magic back to its owner?"

Severus exchanged a glance with Albus and knew that they were thinking the same thing; the possibilities were endless.

* * *

 

"Deck the halls with boughs of holly, tralalalala lala la la," Sirius warbled. He was prancing around the living room in his dressing gown, wand raised as he decorated the room in bursts of red and gold; baubles, ribbons, tinsel and fairy lights. A tree already towered in the corner of the room. Below it were piles of presents, the Order having taken to adding to it as the weeks drew nearer to Christmas.

"Tis the season to be jolly," Sirius continued.

Sirius flicked his wand, silencing the other man. "Pest," he muttered when Sirius turned to him, an affronted look on his face.

Sirius opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out. Severus sat back with what he knew to be a smug smile on his face.

"Ah, peace and quiet. Perfection. Don't you agree, Sirius?"

Sirius was brandishing his wand, trying to remove the spell. Unfortunately, silent casting had never been his forte. Moments later he turned into his animagus form and tried barking. Severus' spell held.

He chuckled to himself and continued the work he'd been doing. An orb sat in his lap and he was trying to charm it to work like Muggle ‘bug' or listening device. Unfortunately, that required a complex combination of spells, and for the life of him, they refused to all settle when cast together.

Lily walked into the room moments later. She was glowing, although slim enough around the waist that it was impossible to tell otherwise that she was pregnant.

"Sirius, have you seen where I left that tin of gingerbread biscuits?"

Severus glanced up quickly enough for Sirius' face to transform into the picture of innocence. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders

"No," Sirius mouthed.

Lily's brow scrunched. "Are you sure…"

At least having eaten all the biscuits explained why Sirius had been vibrating with energy.

"It wasn't me, promise," Sirius mouthed, or something similar. Lily's frown deepened until her face cleared with realisation.

"Severus – have you silenced him?"

"So what if I have?" Severus answered, cocking a brow.

"Oh, you are just so mean to him!" Lily said, shaking her head. A small smile played on her lips, however.

Both Severus and Sirius snorted at that, albeit Sirius silently.

"Only a little bit mean," Severus agreed.

Lily flicked her wand, cancelled his spell.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Sirius gasped. He immediately turned to Lily. "Remus was looking shifty earlier. I'd blame him."

Lily narrowed her eyes but stalked out of the room. "He better not have eaten them all," she muttered.

Sirius turned to Severus and grinned, utterly unashamed.

"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse," Severus recited, putting aside the orb. Perhaps working on Christmas Eve was miserly, even for him.

"You're such a bastard," Sirius said.

"You love me anyway," Severus said with confidence.

Sirius rolled his eyes and flopped onto the sofa, sprawled across Severus. "Perhaps I do. But how could I tell you if I can't speak?"

Severus pretended to contemplate that, shifting so that they were intertwined on the sofa together.

"I suppose you'll just have to show me," he said with a smirk and drew Sirius in for a kiss. He tasted sweet, like sugar and ginger.

* * *

 

Christmas was a day of delights. Many of the Order had converged on Prince Manor, some even bringing their families. Molly Weasley was the queen of the kitchen, bossing about every man, woman and child foolish enough to get within eyesight. Albus was in top form, helping Flitwick charm the many decorations to sing carols, and Moody had changed out the strap on his false eye for one that was gold and glittered. It seemed that even Death Eaters wished to enjoy a peaceful Christmas time.

Frankly, the Order was grateful for the reprieve. They formed an unspoken agreement to forget about the war, even if it was just for one day. Severus enjoyed the peace.

"I had the most peculiar interview earlier today," Albus said once Severus had finished their weekly report. The Christmas festivities had passed and with the end of the year drawing close, Severus' mood was grim and practical.

"Mm?" he glanced at one of Albus' timekeeping pieces, eager to get back to Sirius and bring back the cheer. It was, after all, New Year's Day.

"Yes. Sybil Trelawny, a woman I believed to have little to no skills in Divination, managed to demonstrate to me her talent in a way such that I have no doubt as to her ability as a Seer."

Severus froze and wondered if Albus would mind if he was sick over his lovely, well-maintained oak desk.

"Lily," he rasped. "James."

He forced himself to his feet, and staggered toward the floor, intent on warning them, saving them, stopping him. He'd been so, so sure that his interference in the past would not have led to the Prophecy, utterly confident that Harry would no longer be at risk.

"Fuck!"

It just wasn't fair.

"Severus!" Albus snapped. Severus turned back to him, surprised at Albus' unusual display of temper. "Sit. I wish for you to watch the memory in full before you come to any assumptions."

"Must I?" Severus wasn't sure he could bear to.

Albus said nothing but syphoned his memory into his Pensieve. Granting him a final, betrayed look, Severus fell into the memory.

There Trelawny sat, on a bench in one of the private rooms in the Hogs Head.

"And so, Headmaster…" Suddenly, her head snapped back, and her eyes rolled up into their sockets. In a low, peculiar voice, she spoke.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord lives, born as one who will defy him, born into this life once more… and he will be both marked and not, an equal of the Dark Lord, but he holds knowledge the Dark Lord knows not… and the Dark Lord must die at the hand of his equal, for he cannot live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord lives, born as one who will defy him."

Trelawny blinked, her eyes returning to their usual state. "Sorry, what was I saying?"

But Severus did not hear the rest, for he had wrenched himself free from the memory. He ripped back his sleeve to stare at his inner forearm, the pale skin unblemished, where once it had bared a mark.

"The Prophecy," Severus said numbly, "is about me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Err... sorry for the wait?

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading. Find me on [tumblr](https://theroguehuntress.tumblr.com/) if you wanna chat, or feel free to comment!


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